Child In The Snow
by Totschafe
Summary: Erik finds a blind infant girl in the snow behind the opera house. He takes her in as his daughter and raises her. But as she gets older and he becomes attached to Christine, will their bond be broken?
1. Child In The Snow

Disclaimer and Randomness: Uhhh, I don't own anything except a copy of Gaston Leroux's book, a VHS tape of the 1920's version of the movie (you know, the one with Lon Chaney in it?) and the soundtrack. Sorry if I kind of drifted away from my other story. But this one was eating at my brain! Stupid little plot bunny. Anyway, I got this idea from a dream thing that I had after seeing the new movie and some movie my sister has about a little girl who is made blind by her parents and stuff. Sam is evil like that. This takes place alongside the original plot, just from a different perspective, and also when Christine was a little girl in the beginning. Sorry if Erik is a tad OOC in this. So, here you go.

Chapter 1: Child In The Snow

It was a cold December night and Erik sat in his lair, writing down notes that he produced from his organ to make a song. He did this when he was bored. Compose something random. He stretched a little bit and stopped writing, he was now a little too bored. He got up and put his mask on. He was never afraid of seeing himself, just ashamed. He prowled out of his lair to go creep around the opera house for a little while. He had to do it eventually anyway, just to see what the next opera would be. No one ever noticed him when he did this, and if he did, it was usually just to scare someone. And it was usually that no one saw him. Glancing at the wall, he was pleased to see 'Faust' was playing within a month. He always liked that one. Then he looked to the side and smiled to see snow falling outside the window. Looking around quickly, he used the shadows to his advantage and managed to get outside before anyone could see or hear him. The sight of snow made him happy and sad at the same time. The happiness was from the fact that it was so gentle and beautiful and no two snowflakes were alike. The sadness was that it made him feel more pushed away from eveyone since it was so lonely. No one really came out much when it snowed. He knew no one was ever really out now at the hour, so he felt no pressure just to walk around for a little bit. He carefully walked around the opera house to where some of the Paris alleys connected. As he was just starting to enjoy the solitude of the snowfall, it was interrupted by a shriek. Acting on instinct, he stole away into the shadows of one alley, but that was exactly where the shrieking was coming from. He looked around quickly, hunting down the source. His eyes feel to a pile of rags on the ground. They moved a little bit. He cocked his head and bent over, carefully pulling back the rags. He gasped. A baby was nestled into the rags, fussing angrily, obviously not liking the cold. He gently scooped up the child and looked at it. He could see it was a girl, judging by the mat of dark brown hair and her long eyelashes. She opened her eyes. Strange thing was, they looked every which way, never focusing on anything. He held her in one arm and waved one hand in front of her, but she didn't see it. Then he realized, she was blind. But her eyes showed no sign of actually being permanently blind. Her pupils still dilated and she obviously was trying to focus. He held her to him and she turned her head every which way. She turned her head far enough that he could see the back of her neck. Quickly, he stopped her head from going back and looked closely at the back. A angry red mark contrasted to the paleness of her skin. He felt a small flick of anger in him. Someone had forced her to be blind by cutting off the connection from her eyes to her brain. But they had not succeded. After all the books he read, he could tell the blow was too light and only bent the circuit. She did a sort of growl at him making him let go of her head. "Sorry." he whispered. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. 'I can't leave her here.' he thought. The little girl tried to look at him. And he knew then and there that he would have to care for her.

When he got back to the lair, he found a blanket on the sofa in the sitting room. He wrapped her fragile body up in it and held her. She fussed angrily. Her eyes darted around, like little blue orbs. Her eyes were actually a beautiful color of blue, almost a turquoise. He sighed softly. "No little one, you don't want to see. Nothing on this world is worth seeing." But that didn't stop her. She screamed finally in anger. He knew that seeing everything one minute and losing it all the next had to be horrible. Especially if you were a child like she was. Then he realized, she had no name. He thought of a name, any name, but no ideas came. No girls names came to mind. Then one came. "Amile." he said finally. It was his mother's name. He always loved her, no matter how much she seemed to hate him. Throwing his mask at him whenever he tried to be affectionate. But he always remembered the night that they held eachother and cried together. The girl had stopped screaming and squirming and settled into his arms. This brought a sort of sad smile to his face. He could never hate his mother, now he wanted to show all the affection in the world to prove, wherever his mother was, that he could be affectionate. He looked down at the small girl in his arms. "You are now Amile," he stopped, then added, "my daughter."


	2. When Sight Fails You

Same disclaimer, now leave meh alooonneee!

Chapter 2: When Sight Fails You

Amile was now four years old, still blind, but happy. Erik took good care of her, as a father. She never knew about the mask or anything, but she knew where she lived. What she lacked in sight, she made up for in everything else, like sound and touch. She knew the whole opera house backwards and forwards. She could play the piano with not very much difficulty, but she sometimes missed a key or two. Erik loved her with all of his heart. She still had the blanket that he had wrapped her up in when he found her. It was a crimson red blanket made out of some soft and cheap material. But she loved it. She had her own bed shaped sort of like a seashell with an eagle on the front. She pretended she was a mermaid sometimes. Erik always read to her so she pretended as much as she could. It was very amusing to watch her run around, pretending to be something from a story he might have read the night before. She didn't know what mermaids or fairies looked like, but she didn't care. It was just fun to her. He also sang to her since she still got a little bit feisty when she knew that it was time for bed. Sometimes, Erik was very sure that when she was old enough, she would become an insomniac, much like he was. Like father, like daughter.

One night, he was sitting on the sofa, just reading to himself when Amile walked in. She found a spot next to him. "Daddy?" she asked innocently. He smiled whenever she called him that. He feared, yet embraced, the day when she would get her sight back. He looked down at her. "Yes?" "There's a girl up there, in the big place, her daddy just died." A frown came to him and he set the book to the side. "What about her?" Amile bit her lip. "Well, she said that her daddy told her that when he was in heaven with God, he would send her an angel of music. And that angel would sing to her." A silence went through the room. "Continue." And she did. "I was thinkin', since you have a really pretty voice, maybe you could sing to her!" It was a stupid idea. Him singing to a girl who he didn't even know, in the form of an angel. He scoffed at the idea, an angel, a child of God. What had God done for him? Except, maybe, he did do something. Maybe he gave him Amile. The source of his affection. His love. And now Amile was pleading to him. She had no parents either, and she knew that. She knew Erik was not her real father. Maybe she had some sympathy for this new girl. "What's her name?" he asked finally. "Christine, I think. Her last name is something like, Daae." He stalled. Daae? He knew that name. Her father was the violin player. He knew that. "Fine Amile. I will be this girl's angel." Amile smiled and gave him a hug. "Thank you daddy!" she said. Then he looked back down at her. "Where were you when she came in?" "Right by the mirror hall thing." He was shocked. That mirror passage was in a dressing room behind closed doors and almost 500 feet way from the front door. How could she hear that? "But, how?" "I can hear really good. Madame Giry called me a little bat." The shock passed into a comfortable happiness. Madame Giry had helped Erik take care of Amile earlier. When Amile annoyed him enough, he would take her to Madame Giry. Then he thought about it. It was no real surprise that she could hear that. When one loses sight, they can focus on other things. And hearing was her focus.


	3. Box Five

Awww! You people are so nice to me! I feel so lovded!

ILuvSnuffles805: Thanks a lot!

Ai have a boring life: Interesting concepts are always good. Thanks!

Softiful: Well, I'm basing Amile's character on my four-year-old niece and she talks like that. Thankees anywho!

Moojuice Nne of the Mayonaisse: Thanks for the suggestion. Sorry bout taking the concept. Hehe. ::salutes you anyway::

Arwengrl15: Danke much!

Chapter 3: Box Five

Amile felt no restraint to annoy Erik as much as humanly possible. She was four, what else is there to do? Other than being able to hear things that no normal human can hear, her other talent was bringing anyone to the point of exploding in anger. Which with Erik, his fuse was short and he had a temper like no other. She had never made him explosive mad before, but knowning how persistent she was, it wouldn't be long. And it wasn't.

Box five was off limits to her. She had never been there before and Erik wouldn't allow it. She ran around with the great powerful force of hyperactivity. He wondered where she got her energy. One night, there was an opera and he was getting ready to go. As usual, sneak up and past everyone, get upstairs, go to box five and there you go. But that particular night, it wouldn't be that easy.

Amile sat on the sofa with her blanket bunched up in her arms. "Can I go this time?" He looked at her with an annoyed look. Which was no use since she couldn't see it. "Amile, you know the answer to that." She nodded slowly. "I know daddy, but you say it every night and I get reeeeaaaalllllyyyy bored here." He sighed and shook his head. "No, and that's final." But this was Amile, and no was not in her vocabulary. "Please, please, please, please, plleeeaaaase?" She stuck out her lip in a pleading way. "No." She crossed her arms angrily. "You're mean." she said stiffly. He smirked. "I know I am." He put his cape on and then his mask. She just sat there, glaring. Even with being blind, she knew how to operate her eyes to show as much expression as possible. He looked at her and shook his head again. "Listen, someday, when you're older, I'll let you come with me. Until then, you stay here." "But why can't I go? I'll be quiet. I promise!" He glared at her. "I don't think you'll be able to sneak around all of those people and I can't risk someone seeing you." She sighed and continued hugging her blanket. He walked over and kissed the top of her head. She stuck out her tounge at him. "Bye Amile." he said, a smile evident in his voice. "Bye." she grumbled.

Erik looked down upon the opera with a small smirk. Little Christine was dancing beautifully. Under Amile's request, he had still been teaching her to sing just about every night. And she sang back to him. He could hear talent developing in her. But for now, she was a ballet dancer. He leaned back a little bit and let himself sink into the sound. Until he felt someone else in the box with him. He sat up and looked around and looked behind him. Then he turned back around to see the familiar red blanketed figure of his daughter. He nearly fell out of his chair. "Amile!?!" She smiled at him. "Hi!" He shook his head. "I told you that you couldn't be up here!" She frowned. "But I got past all those people! I can hear them and I know where to hide and stuff." He sighed in defeat and picked her up onto his lap. She nuzzled him and curled up in his arms. She watched the opera with intrest. Which was unusual for a little girl of her age. She giggled at all the funny parts which to even some adults didn't even make sense. At the end, she yawned at stretched out. "I'm tired daddy." He smiled and stroked her long, messy brown hair. She refused to let him brush it. He picked her up and waited until just about everyone left except some maintenence people. Madame Giry came into the box to wipe it down like she did after every show. She looked at Amile who was now asleep in her father's arms. "She's beautiful Erik." Erik smiled and looked down at the sleeping child. "I wish she would act a little different. Then she would be perfect." Mme. Giry laughed. "That's what I say about Meg. Every child is like that, she'll get better." Erik held Amile to him and smiled softly. "I better take her back now." Mme. Giry nodded and smiled. "Good-bye Erik." She continued cleaning


	4. The Blood Ghost

Because I love you all, I write many more chapters! Wheee! This one had one of those dramatic father moments. We all get one of those eventually.

Chapter 4: The Blood Ghost

Erik had watched Amile grow four more years until she was eight years old. She went up to box five with him now all the time. He couldn't believe how she had matured. From a partially insane four year old to a beautiful eight year old that acted as though she was thirteen. She could play piano now without any mistake whatsoever. But now she was taking on what her father did so well. She was now very sneaky and quiet. She was clever and used her hearing to her advantage. Any sound, small to huge, she could hear. She also felt around and could find her way around the lair now with no problem.

The "Opera Ghost" had been sighted again obviously. Amile heard it go through the opera house like wildfire. It amused her. It was making her proud to know that her father scared other people when he was not even all the way sighted. But she didn't know what made him so scary. He never told her about his mask or his face. If she couldn't see it, he wouldn't say it. She had heard of these sightings a couple times in a year. Rarely though. Erik was not one to show himself often. Just make himself known. As she heard it, she smiled. Inspiration struck her. She found her blanket and ran off.

Dodging the traps she had known about for years, she made her way up to the theatre. She did her regular crawl under the stairs and go into the rafters backstage. She did this every now and then. Other than annoying people and hearing much like a bat, Amile was a great eavesdropper. Erik used that to his advantage and made her listen to the manager about what shows were coming soon. She sat in the rafters in a cat-like position, her blanket pulled tightly around her. And suddenly, her eavesdropping skills were very useful. "My God, did you see him? That face! White as snow! Hate to see him in a dark alley."

"Oh Joseph. He's a myth, someone was playing a prank."

"No Robert, this man is real. I'm not sure he is a man."

"Wasn't he like, a freak in a circus or something?"

"The circus? Ha! You shame yourself Andre. I heard he was pulled out from the sewers."

"Well, I heard that he was a man until he killed a witch's son and she turned his face into one big deformity."

Amile blinked. They weren't talking about her father, were they? But they were. And that made her angry. "SHUT UP!" she screamed! There was a silence followed by a man screaming. "It's a ghost! It's all bloody!" She realized they were talking about her. Panicking, she ran as fast as she could. She made her way back to the lair and hid behind her bed, pulling her blanket over her.

Erik was coming back from his latest lesson with Christine when he heard people talking about a ghost. But from the sound of it, it wasn't him. "I swaer Madame Giry! It was all red and it screamed and ran. I knew it was blood!" Erik let it sink in when he realized, Amile had been seen. She was never seen without the red blanket that she loved so much. He broke into a run to his lair.

He found her behind the bed, hiding either from him or the managment. He took the blanket off of her and looked straight at her. "That was you they were talking about up there, wasn't it?" She closed her eyes tightly and nodded. He felt his anger rise. "You let yourself be seen? By those people of all people! They would have killed you if you were close enough! What were you thinking!?! That was so stupid of you! I would expect better of you!" She started crying. "I-I'm sorry daddy! I didn't know they would see me! I didn't know they were there. B-but then they started talkin' about you and I got mad and yelled at them and then they got scared and..." She trailed off and started crying again. His gaze softened. She didn't mean to be seen and she didn't know. She had never really seen color before so she didn't know red was so bright. He sighed and stroked her hair. She stopped sobbing and just sniffled. "Are you mad at me?" she asked gently. He shook his head. "No, I wasn't mad Amile. I was..." He couldn't find the right word. Then he found it. "I was scared." She stopped altogether. "You were scared?" "Yes. I was scared that you would have gotten hurt or even worse. I can't let that happen." She nodded, showing that she understood, then stopped again. "Those people said something about your face. They said it was all, de-def, something." His heart stopped. She knew? He felt as though his stomach had been glazed over with ice. "Th-they said that?" She nodded. "Yeah, what did they mean?" He stood up and looked down at her. Then he picked her up. She was a little bit difficult to pick up because she was now more grown up. He set her on the sofa and sat next to her. "Amile, please understand. I'm not like anyone else. I don't look like anyone. My face, is, well, messed up. When I was born, something happened to me and made my face different. I have to wear a mask so no one sees it. I never told you because you never saw it." She nodded. "I understand daddy. Am I like that? I mean, am I all messed up 'cause I can't see?" He stroked her hair gently. "No Amile, you're different. You are going to see eventually. I promise."


	5. Sickness

Yes, I became aware my paragraph skills suck. I'm trying to fix that. Oh, and about the error with Erik's mom's name. I didn't know that little fact. ::blushes:: Sorry. Oh, and here is Erik's really good dad side in this one. The one that a lot of people like apparently. And I agree, Amile is pretty darn cute. Anyway, read on my little minions!

Chapter 5: Sickness

There was some sort of epidemic passing through the opera house. Some sort of fever. Erik was not aware of this, and neither was Amile. She was nine now, and she had more freedom around the opera house, which also meant she had many more chances of catching something.

After a nightly run around the opera house, Amile was getting unusually tired. She never was really tired but this time, she couldn't help it. She was even a bit dizzy. Slowly, she made her way to the lair and curled up on her bed, shivering. Had the lair always been this cold? Chills ran through her and her head felt funny. Erik came in with a proud smile. "Christine is doing great. I am so proud of her now." He looked at his daughter shivering nearly uncontrollably. A frown took over him. "Amile? Are you okay?" She spoke in shaking breaths. "Y-yes daddy. J-Just a l-little b-bit cold." He touched her forehead gently, then drew back. She had a fever. He covered her up and stroked her hair, now damp with sweat. "Just sleep darling. Just sleep."

He stayed up all night, watching her. She had short spells of severe shivering. He had never been this worried. A cough would come from time to time and maybe a sneeze or two, but other than that, she just layed there, sweating and shivering. After about four hours of this, he crept back upstairs to find Madame Giry. She would know what to do in a time like this. Covering himself in the shadows like he did naturally, he crept to where Madame Giry stayed.

Without trying, he unlocked and opened the door with ease. She laid on her side, sleeping soundly. in one swift, cat-like motion, he was at her side. He gently touched her shoulder. She grumbled and rolled onto her back and looked up. A short gasp escaped her lips. "Oh! Erik! What are you doing here?" He looked around quickly. "I need you to see Amile. She's sick." Madame Giry sighed. "Just about everyone in the whole place is. Fever, correct?" He nodded. She groaned and got up. Without hesitation, he took her to his lair.

At the first glance, Madame Giry did feel pity for the poor girl. She was sweating horribly and her face was a pale as her father's mask. "Amile?" Madame Giry said softly, touching Amile's shoulder. She grumbled and curled up tighter. Erik frowned at his daughter. "She's been like this for hours. I got you since I knew you could take care of things like these." Madame Giry blushed a little bit. Erik did trust her enough to take care of his beloved daughter. That was trust. She looked carefully at Amile and frowned. "Tomorrow I will get some medicine, until then, take care of her." He looked at his daughter sadly. "Will she be able to go that long?" Mme. Giry nodded. "Yes, no one I know has died of a fever yet. These are regular symptoms. Just take good care of her." With that, she hurried back upstairs.

Erik had fallen asleep in his watch over Amile. He slowly opened his eyes to see Madame Giry already taking care of his daughter. Amile was wide awake and still had the tired sick look to her. But she smiled. "Madame Giry is bein' my doctor!" she said happily. He looked at her sideways, wondering how she knew he was awake. Then he mentally smacked himself, she could hear anything and everything. He stretched out a little bit and smiled at her. "Are you feeling any better?" She nodded.

"Oh yeah. Madame Giry gave me some medicine and it made me all better. It just tasted reeeeaaaallllyyyy bad."

She stuck out her tongue to add to the effect. He laughed a little bit then stood with Mme. Giry. He looked down and smiled, almost shyly. "Thank you so much. I could have never done this." Madame Giry just smiled. "It's nothing. Amile is very good about the medicine." She handed him a small bottle. "Just give this to her every hour until it runs out." Amile made a horrified face. "That's the nasty stuff! Ecchhhh!" Erik restrained himself from bursting out laughing. Even if she acted sometimes like a sophisticated young lady, she had never lost that youthful sense.

And in no time, after much caring for her, she did get better. The night that he thought she was officially better, he took her into his arms and held her to him. He shuddered at the thought of if he had left her in the alley when he found her. He just wouldn't be able to live with himself. But one glance down at his sleeping daughter cleared it from his head and he too fell asleep.


	6. Best Friends

Muahahaha! More of Amile cuteness! You know you like the cuteness. YOU KNOW IT!!! Hehehe...um, yeah. Oh! This is the last chapter when she is all little-ish. It goes kind of fast because I'm tired and sick, so forgive me, please. NOW READ!

Chapter 6: Best Friends

Now Amile was nine years of age. Still as sophisticated as possible, but in her father's opinion, when she wasn't with him in the opera house, she was insane. But he noticed something about her. She was becoming a bit depressed. She drew herself away from her regular schedule of running around the opera house like it was her playground. He knew that she was experiencing what he had experienced when he was around her age. The playground becoming a domain.

He found her one day, laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, just not seeing it. He smiled awkwardly at her. "Are you okay Amile?" he asked gently. She let out a sigh that was traced with a feeling he had known too well. Lonliness. She sat up played with the end of her dress. "I'm just all lonely. That's all." She had lost the childishness of her voice which he was beginning to miss. The reality that she was growing up was bearing down on him. He sat next to her. "Well, how do you think you can fix this?" She shook her head.

"I don't know. I wish I had like a sister or something. Or maybe a brother. You're always running around or singing to Christine and I'm always by myself."

And it was true. He had been leaving her alone for some time. She stood up abruptly and pulled her red blanket around her. The 'Blood Ghost', as she had now been so lovingly called, took over her. Whenever she donned the ratty old blanket, he knew she was someone different. She brushed past him and took the mirror passage up.

In her spot on the rafters, Amile swung her legs back and forth, staring meaninglessly at the theatre. She sighed sadly. Erik wasn't like he used to be. He used to always play with her. Now he was always giving Christine singing lessons. While she was sitting there, she heard a childish voice much like her own. "Mama, is the Phantom really real?"

"Yes darling, he is."

Amile recognized the second voice as Madame Giry. The younger one was obviously her daughter, Meg, who was only about a year younger than her. Then inspiration struck. From what she had heard, Meg and herself were not too different. Meg could see though, but they liked to dance, liked to listen to music, and they were both doted on by their guardian. Amile smiled and skipped across the rafters.

She now took her place down in the backstage area. She heard Meg approach. Amile found that people had a certain sound when they walked. She pulled her blanket off and sat on a crate, staring aimlessly at a wall. As she planned, Meg came up to her. "Are you okay?" she asked squeakily. Amile nodded. Meg was silent for a moment before speaking. "What's your name?"

"Amile."

"That's a pretty name, my name is Meg Giry. My mama is Madame Giry. She's the ballet teacher and she cleans up sometimes."

"I know she does."

Meg looked at Amile closer. "Why're you staring at the wall like that?"

"I'm blind." Amile said swiftly. Meg was silent again. "I'm sorry." She said gently. She sat next to Amile on the crate and smiled at her. "Who's your parents?" Amile shrugged. "I don't have any parents. My mama and daddy died when I was a baby." A shocked silence took over Meg. "How'd you take care of yourself?"

"Someone found me."

"Who?"

"The Phantom." Amile said, smirking. Meg opened her mouth in shock. "He is?" Amile nodded and smiled at Meg. "Yes." Meg touched Amile's hand gently. "Would you like to be my friend then? I only have one other." With a grin, Amile nodded happily. "Best friends?" she asked. Meg grinned back. "Yes, best friends."

The silence of the lair was penetrated by Amile galloping through there and throwing herself onto her bed in a happy daze. Erik stood over her, eyebrow raised. "What happened to you?" Amile giggled. "I got a best friend now." Erik smirked casually. "And whom, may I ask, is your best friend?" Amile sat up and smiled at her father. "Meg Giry." Erik sat next to her and stroked her hair. "I was hoping you'd become friends. You know Madame Giry well enough." Amile was now delighted.

"I know! That's the best part! She can actually come down here and I can go up there!"

Erik did a half-smile, half-frown. "Yes, but remember..." He was cut off by her finishing the sentence for him. "Don't get caught. I know. You don't need to remind me all the time."

With that, she curled up on her bed and took a cat nap since it was still daytime and it was just what she did. He looked down at her with a soft smile on his face. "I know."


	7. Audron

Wheeee! I am back yet again! Wahaha! Oh, and Amile will never stop calling Erik 'daddy'. It's just an Amile trait I guess. And yes, as many have predicted, Amile is getting older and Christine is going to step in some more, until, oh, you know... And I do like Christine, but this is Amile here, and there is some Christine-hating here from a certain cute blind girl. Oh yeah, there is a certain terrible sounding diva in this one. Muahahaha!

Chapter 7: Audron

Every night now seemed to be on the same schedule for Amile. Erik goes to Christine, play organ, lay on bed, wait, Erik comes back, sleep. She had turned eleven and Erik was always ranting about Christine's vocal development. Usually when she tried a conversation, it consisted of 'Have you heard Christine lately? She's beginning to sound like an angel!' Then he would go on and on until she just left to go run around the opera house for awhile. She still went to Box Five with him all the time, but sometimes it got boring because he would just watch Christine dance all the time.

Luckily, Amile still had Meg. They always played together. But as fate would have it, Meg's other best friend was Christine. Amile had never actually met Christine, but she had heard her and had learned the sound of her walking. Sometimes she would force Meg to shut up if she started talking about playing with Christine. Nevertheless, Meg taught Amile how to dance and Amile taught Meg to play the piano in exchange. It was fun for both of them. But soon, the fun would wane until its end.

One night, she went up to see Meg, to see if she wanted to dance or something. She cautiously went upstairs to the dormatories. She knew the ballerinas were out on stage, having a practice and Meg didn't go because she got private lessons from her mother. "Meg?" Amile whispered. Meg stood up abruptly. "Amile? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

Meg gave a delighted squeal that only a ten year old could produce. She ran up and hugged Amile. "Mama just gave me my lessons so I'm kinda bored anyway. What do you want to do?" Amile peeled Meg off of her and shrugged. "I don't know really, want to go to the lair and play on my daddy's organ?" Meg nodded furiously. Even with Amile being blind, Meg trusted her friend whole-heartedly to lead her around.

When the two were in the hallway where the dressing room mirror was when Amile's ears picked up a familiar sound. Christine was approaching. Amile had devised this whole duck-out-of-the-way plan. She pranced away into a room across from the dressing room. Christine approached Meg and hugged the small girl. Her dark hair pulled back in a braid and her eyes twinkling. "Meg! I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the cafe with me and Madame Renaud right now. Do you want to?" As if Meg had forgotten totally about the girl in the other room, she agreed. It was a stab in the heart to Amile. She heard the whole ordeal and closed her eyes tightly, restraining the tears. As soon as she was sure that Christine and Meg had left, she launched herself from one room to the next and slipped behind the mirror.

As soon as she was in the lair, she jumped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, with no aim whatsoever as usual. She heard Erik come in. He was unusually happy. And you can only guess why. "My God, I am practically raising an angel! You should have heard Christine today! She is so angelic in her voice now. And she calls me the 'Angel of Music'! She might be replacing me soon!" Amile clenched her fist and stood up angrily. She marched back upstairs, ignoring her father's tale of his success of the day.

Tears were streaking down her cheeks as she naturally dodged everyone and made it up into the rafters, climbing to the highest one with ease. She pulled her knees up to her chest. She could hear the pigeons cooing above her. They always got in somehow. She sniffed quietly. Then she heard the flapping of wings and something landed on her shoulder. It shuffled a little bit and cooed. She reached up and pet it. It cooed again and pushed its head against her finger. She smiled at the little pigeon's actions. She pet it some more until it flapped down onto her lap. She pet it gently and it flapped its wings happily. She smiled and stroked under its beak.

"You're just like me, aren't you? You're all alone and they don't care much about you."

It just cooed in some sort of agreement. She smiled sadly. "I'm going to call you Audron. I'll come up here everyday and visit you. I promise." He flew away and she smiled. She felt much better now. She stood up and stretched before going down to the lair again. A smile played on her lips for the first time in weeks.

Uhhh, Audron is named after Janos Audron in Legacy of Kain cuz he's cool and gives you his heart a lot in Blood Omen 1. Yay!


	8. Do You Love Me?

I'm on a roll man. Woohoo! And with the weekend coming up, there's gonna be a lot of stuff being written here. Yayness! Huzzah for special Amile cuteness! But, unfortunately, I have to follow the original story, and you all know how that goes. Yeah, so Amile isn't going to be much of a daddy's girl anymore. And for all the people who like the funny Amile, this chapter won't be too great for you. It's kind of depressing. ::sniff::

Chapter 8: Do You Love Me?

Months had passed since the Christine episode. As she promised, Amile went to see Audron everyday, sometimes bringing him some food. He was her only true friend now. He loved her like only a pigeon would. But that didn't matter to her. At least he was there for her. Unlike some certain people. She watched as her father slowly became more and more attached to Christine. Sometimes he would be gone all day. He never told her about an opera now, so she had to find out for herself. When he had to go somewhere, he wouldn't even say good-bye to her. Now she was twelve, and clearly showe the fact she did not have the mind of a twelve-year-old. She acted more like a teenager. And now with the lack of attention or anything else that she had held so dearly, she was becoming depressed.

It was now useless to talk to Meg. She wasn't really a friend anymore. She only talked to Christine and that was it. It seemed as though Meg and Amile had never met. Now she believed that no one saw her anymore, no one knew who she was. Except a pigeon. That was it. A bird that lived in the rafters. But she was thankful that he at least acknowledged her.

Amile listened as her father was composing something. The sound drifted through her like a wave. It burned and yet it soothed her. Two totally different emotions mixing. It made her heart beat faster. He stopped after awhile and walked passed her. She heard him put his cape on, then his mask. He was going to Christine again. Trying to find some way to communicate with him, she spoke softly. "Daddy?" she asked softly. He stopped in his tracks. They hadn't spoken in awhile. And now she spoke to him. "Yes?" he said, turning around slowly to face her. Her eyes drifted to the side. It was a habit. She could feel someone look at her so she would 'look' away. "Am, well, am I ever going to see again?" He looked down.

"I honestly don't know. I thought it would have been healed by now, but it's not."

She nodded and he turned to leave again. Then she knew what to ask. "Daddy?" she asked again. Almost in anger, he turned around again. "Yessss?" he hissed. She finally 'looked' up at him.

"Do you love me?" she asked softly.

He felt a cold feeling in the area of his heart. She said it so sadly. And he saw why. He had neglected her for so long now. Not speaking to her, not doing anything with her. It was a wonder that she didn't just run away. He walked over to her and sat down on her bed with her. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closely to him. Tears came to his eyes all of a sudden. "Yes Amile, I love you very much." She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you too daddy." she whispered into his shirt.

So Christine was left alone that night, for once. Erik fell asleep with his daughter in his arms. She had fallen asleep smiling. That was how it was supposed to be. He woke up before her and looked down at her sleeping figure. How could he leave her like this? It seemed so wrong to him. He pulled his cape off and his mask followed. He stroked her hair gently, calming himself. "I love you my darling. And I always will, I promise."


	9. Disaster

Yay! More happy reviews. Oh how they energize me! Now I have to write more, since it is Friday and all which means, WRITE ALL NIGHT! Hehehe, so all you Amile fans out there, be happy. And I am planning to have Amile see again soon. Yay. I also have not actually seen 'La Traviata', but since it is an opera that is old, I decided to put it in here. So don't point out any errors about it. I just know the story, that's it. So anyway, all those who feel bad for Amile, be happy! ::hands out Amile plushies to all who want one::

Chapter 9: Disaster

To Amile's delight, Erik started paying more attention to her. They had spent one whole year running around the opera house like the 'ghosts' that they were. She was thirteen and Erik couldn't have been more proud. She was beautiful. Her dark brown hair went to her waist but she usually tied it back with a ribbon. And her turquoise eyes glittered in any light. She was as pale as he was, obviously from living underground most of her life. And also to her delight, she went up to Box Five with him all the time now. She felt as if she was a five year old again. Young and happy. She and Erik were close again. That was all she needed.

The night came down like a curtain. 'La Traviata' was playing the next night. It had been one of Amile's favorites. She liked Violette's character because of how sensitive she was to other people. It seemed so similar to herself. Except she wasn't a courtesan.

That particular night, Amile was prowling around the dressing room areas. As quiet as a fox, she creeped to the end of the hall to where Christine's dressing room was. Since she was one of the top ballerinas, she had her own dressing room. Amile thought she was a spoiled brat because of it. The Opera Populaire's little princess. Standing by the doorway, she waited so she could scare Christine like she did so well. Christine had seen her on more than one occasion. Only as a red flash though. But it still scared her. Then, Amile heard voices coming from inside.

"Oh my angel. Please, come to me."

A second voice responded. One that Amile knew so well. Erik's voice.

"Yes my darling?"

"You have watched over me so long. Do you tend to anyone else, or love anyone else?"

Amile let out a soft growl. How dare that little brat ask that question! But then the answer came.

"No darling Christine. No one but you."

Amile gasped in a mix of horror, shock, and above all, anger. She wasn't hearing this. She couldn't be! The singing conversation continued. Amile heard the young soprano's voice. Erik was right, she did have the voice of an angel-to-be. The conversation ended and Christine came out. Amile covered herself with the blanket and let out the most dangerous growl she could muster. "You have taken something so dear to me away. You will regret this night." Christine screamed in fear and Amile sprung away like ghost she was. And she wasn't lying. Christine would regret it all.

The whole night was spent planning the ultimate revenge. A deed carried out so greatly, it would be burned into Christine's mind forever. She didn't talk to Erik once that night, nor during the day. Plans were creted and put aside, until one came about. Using all of Amile's intellect of course. She cackled to herself. She would not lose Erik to a simple little ballet girl with a high voice. Just as she had promised.

Attendees poured in the front doors. Excited to see the opera. To hear the voices, see the sights, take in it all. But that was not what Amile was there for. She told Erik she had been feeling a bit tired from lack of sleep and he excused her. He believed her since 'La Traviata' was a favorite of her's. So he went up. Using her knowledge of the tunnels that made up the labyrinth of the underground lair, she made it backstage in no time. Carefully prowling up the rafters, past Buquet and the other stagehands. She made it to her high rafter where Audron perched on her shoulder. She let out a soft laugh as she heard the excited sounds below her. Audron cooed happily. She grinned. "Don't worry about it, my friend. I will have my revenge. Christine won't know what hit her."

It started at last. Amile listened to the first couple minutes, and even managed to get through Carlotta's screeching solo, until she recognized Christine's act. The music began and Audron flew back into the rafters. Amile carefully went back down until she found a rope that held up a large piece of scenery. Buquet was no where to be seen. Probably watching the next set of ballerinas getting ready. She felt the rope in her hands and untied it, using all her strength to hold it up, until the perfect moment. She heard feet hit the floor closely to eachother, which meant they were right in the way. Then she let go. A smile took over her as she heard the music stop and the screams begin. She heard Buquet approaching. Donning her red blanket, she pranced away with ease.

News traveled through the opera house about the accident. Some did say it was an accident, and some said it was the Phantom. She curled up on her bed as soon as she got back to the lair. Holding back her laughs, she heard Erik march into the room. The sound of him begin to speak was stopped as he saw her. She looked as though she was sleeping. To add to the affect, she opened her eyes slowly and sat up. She was even so careful as to mess up her hair as though to appear to have slept a long time. "What's going on?" she said sleepily. He sat down tiredly in a chair next to her bed. "There was an accident upstairs. A piece of scenery fell on some girls." Then he gulped. "It fell on Christine too. Luckily, it was not fatal." She made herself look sympathetic. "Is anyone hurt?" she said gently. "Yes, just hurt, not dead." She nodded sleepily and fell back into the pillows, yawning. He stood up and stroked her hair gently, before he too, decided to try to get some sleep.


	10. Hate

I guess I can tell you this ahead of time. All the parts of the movie/play are all going alongside with Amile's life. That's why I saw the movie so many times to see where Amile can be. Like parts when Erik isn't in the scene. Amile is the same age as Christine by the way. Just to clear anything up! I also need to know about how old Christine would have been when the whole Phantom thing happened. Now on with da show!

Chapter 10: Hate

It had been three months since the accident. Christine had only ended up with a sprained ankle, which still upset Erik. Amile wanted to laugh at Christine now, but since it would upset Erik. That was the last thing she wanted. As far as she could tell, Erik had no idea that she did it. Now Erik had put anger torwards Buquet for abandoning his post. No guilt went through the teenager as she heard the rants coming from him about the whole situation. She felt more like she had succeeded something very important instead of just crushing a bunch of girls under a piece of scenery.

The feeling of success was short lived when Amile did her routine dressing room trip. She stood by Christine's door after a practice and waited patiently. Then she heard Christine cry out to her 'angel'. "Oh Angel of Music, please come to me! Please!" Amile put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. She really wished that she could have seen the 'accident' as so many called it. It would have been even more triumphant for her. But it didn't matter. She had her revenge, and she listened.

"Oh Angel! I need you now!"

"Yes Christine, my little darling. I am here."

"Oh Angel, thank you. You see, the night before the opera and the accident, I saw the Blood Ghost and it told me I would regret the night."

Amile's heart skipped a beat. "No." she whispered. Erik was silenced. Amile could practically feel everything her father felt. Anger, rage, sadness, all of those things burned in his heart. She had disobeyed him.

"Christine. I will take care of it all."

As soon as he said that, she felt like throwing up. Christine said her thank-yous and went outside, not even seeing Amile. Amile started sweating. Knowing Erik, she would be in a lot of trouble. Who knows what he would do to her? All she knew was that the hate she had for Christine grew ten times more,

She made her way down to the lair. It felt like a death march to the executioner. She could feel Erik in the room with her. She lowered her head in shame. His voice was low and seemed like it was restraining itself from screaming at her. "It was you." he said. She felt like he had just hit her over the head with a hammer. "Yes." she whispered. He sighed angrily. "How could you do that to her!?!" he said so angrily, she backed away. Now she knew that she couldn't hide the truth and she started sobbing.

"Because I hate Christine Daae! You pay so much attention to her! I hate her with all my heart! I wish I had never said anything about her to you!"

With that, she stormed passed him and fell into her bed, pulling the curtains down around it. He stood still, in shock. "You hate her?" he whispered to himself. Then he felt shame in himself. He hadn't noticed. She would walk away if he talked about her. She threatened and hurt her. How could he be blind when she could see what he could not? But his face grew solemn. "Fine, hate her then. Because I still love her." he hissed.


	11. Everything Ends

Glad to see you all like it. Woohoo for the Christine bashing! ::hands out big sticks:: Bash away! Yeah, Erik is being mean to poor lil Amile. I'm almost to the point where everything starts happening. And you know it's only going to get better once we get there! This may be the last chapter when they're all sensitive torward eachother. The song in this is 'Spieluhr' by Rammstein. Spieluhr means music box in German. You can see the English version at the bottom. Oh yeah, and the title to this chapter is a Slipknot song. SlipknotTPOTOAngsty fics! Yay!

Chapter 11: Everything Ends

Amile had been aware of Erik's proclamation of love to Christine. Now she didn't know who she hated and who she loved. Whenever she thought of if she hated Erik, she remembered that without him, she would probably be dead. But when she thought of if she loved him, she remembered she was second best to Christine, and that broke her heart. It seemed like she was nothing to anyone. Even Audron took less interest in her. She even went as far as wondering that if she died, would Erik even care?

She wanted to know.

The December night took over Paris, making the snow light up, though she couldn't see it, she knew. Erik had told her that it was a night like this that he found her as a child. Now he was going to find her all over again. If he even cared. She went to the roof and stood next to Apollo's Lyre, wishing she could see anything. She knew that from the edge was a straight fall. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she climbed up to the top and dropped to the side a little bit. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Before she could jump, she heard a gentle whispering song in her ear.

"_Hoppe hoppe Reiter_  
und kein Engel steigt herab  
_mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter_  
nur der Regen weint am Grab  
_hoppe hoppe Reiter_  
eine Melodie im Wind  
_mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter_  
und aus der Erde singt das Kind"

She gasped as she heard it. She had heard it before, the song, sung to her so sweetly. Then the voice whispered to her, "Do you really want to do this Amile?" She shook her head quickly and a hand came out to pull her back. She knew it was Erik and as soon as she was pulled back in, she sobbed into his chest. He held her closely to him. He too cried. "I'm sorry Amile. I know what I said. I was angry." She sighed into his chest. "I still love you daddy." He smiled sadly. "And I still love you too." Then she moved her head up. "What is that song?" He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "A song I sang to you when you were just a baby." He took her hand finally and led her back down.

He laid next to her again in the bed and nuzzled her neck gently. He sang it again to help her sleep. He sighed and laid on his back, his hand touching the deformed side of his face. He was so happy she could not see that. But he frowned when he remembered she would regain her sight again. He didn't care now. She was still his daughter. And it made him proud. He would probably never be a real father. This was as close as he would get. He appreciated it more than anything else.

Here's the English version!

_Up and down, rider_  
and no angel climbs down  
_my heart does not beat anymore_  
only the rain cries on the grave  
_up and down, rider_  
a melody in the wind  
_my heart does not beat anymore_  
and the child sings from the ground


	12. The New People

Yay, next chapter! I couldn't pull an all-nighter last night because I did get tired. But now I have some coffee brewing, a Mountain Dew right next to me, a blueberry muffin, and some insane German people singing into my ears (Rammstein of course!). So now I will type like I have never typed before! Actually, right now in my typing class at school, I'm at 53 words a minute, which I am proud of. And don't mind my errors about Amile seeing things, I find them all the time. It's not very easy writing about a blind person. Ach, nothing can be perfect. Now read away!

Chapter 12: The New People

Since Amile's near-suicide, Erik had become protective of her again. She had to give up being the 'Blood Ghost' because it was causing to many problems. Which in her words meant that Erik didn't want her anywhere near Christine. The only time that she could be upin the opera house was during an actual opera. Other than that, she was forced to stay in the lair, even if it was against her will. And that meant she would never see Audron again. She never told Erik about Audron because she though he would think she was insane for being friends with a pigeon. In her mind, she was a prisoner. But even so, she saw this as Erik caring for her, even if it seemed irrational.

Nights in the lair were very boring. Erik was usually stalking around the opera house. This one was no different. She sat at the organ, just playing anything random. Sometimes she would make something up but would forget it eventually. Finally, she was too bored. As she sat at the organ, her elbow on the side, she was hit with an idea. If Erik wasn't there with her, how could he see her anyway? She could very easily sneak out whenever she wanted to. She was fifteen now, old enough to do a lot of things. Grinning, she took out her old red blanket. It never left her and she refused to get rid of it. Carefully putting it on, she crawled up the mirror passage way. This would be easy since she could dodge Erik. She felt where he was, like some sort of ESP. The only problem was if he came back. So, as quick and agile as a fox, she went up.

The feeling of the theatre came back to her as a stunning reminder. It was warm and full of life. There was obviously a rehearsal going on. From what Amile heard, it was for 'Hannibal'. As she perched herself on a lower rafter, she also heard more things.

"Did you hear? Monsieur Lefevre is retiring!"

"I heard it too. Can you believe it?"

This confused Amile greatly. Lefevre had been there forever, always providing her father with 20,000 francs a month, always reserving Box Five, always doing whatever Erik requested. How could he leave? Who would replace him? The talking voices stopped as singing voices replaced them. Then it changed to Carlotta's screeching. Neither Erik nor Amile liked Carlotta. Erik called her a cockroach and Amile at a young age referred to her as a dying animal just begging to be put out of its misery. Amile covered her ears and waited for the diva to stop. But she wouldn't except for yelling at the other actors to get out of the way. Eager to escape the death sentence-to-be, Amile jumped to the highest rafters where the pigeons were. Audron landed on her hand and cooed. "I know Audron, she does sound horrible."

Suddenly, she felt Erik nearby. In a panic, she jumped down and hid behind some props that were kept in storage up there. Erik was now very close. Carlotta's singing was interrupted by two new voices. "These are your two new managers," a voice said. She couldn't hear the rest because she was too afraid of Erik. Hopefully he couldn't tell she was there.

All Amile could hear was something about the managers and a man named Raoul. Climbing a rope that led up to the high rafters, she crawled back over to the other side where the ballerinas were. There, she heard Christine talking to Meg. "That's Raoul!" she exclaimed. A wicked smile came over Amile. She heard adoration in Christine's voice. "You could say we were childhood sweethearts." Yes, it was adoration. Now Christine would be diverted from Erik and go to this Raoul person. But then she felt a new feeling torwards the arrival of these new people, she felt a feeling that havoc would ensue.


	13. The Soprano Angel

Holy crap on a stick! The reviews, they fill meh! ::grins:: I'm glad to see you all like Amile. She is pretty adorable, and hateful. But hey, when your dad has an obssession with a girl OTHER than you, I think you would be a tad P.O.'ed as well. Well, now since we're in the story thing, you know Amile is going to cause some absolute chaos! Yay chaos! And all the Audron lovers, you know pigeons don't live forever, but this is a Phantom of the Opera pigeon! Of course he's going to live! So, celebrate oh great lovers of Audron. And let us continue!

Chapter 13: The Soprano Angel

Much to Amile's unhappiness, Carlotta resumed singing. Making her escape from the screaming, Amile climbed back up to the rafters right above her father. She knew by the sounds of his heavy breathing that he was right below her. In not even a minute, her screeching ceased when Amile heard the sound of something falling. It seemed so familiar. Then she realized, it was the curtain dropping. It sounded much like when Amile had the scenery fall on the ballerinas, just not as heavy. Carlotta was yelling and cursing and the managers were begging for forgiveness from her. They had figured out the one thing about Carlotta: obey her or regret it.

She heard a soft laugh coming from Erik. He could be very wicked when he wanted to be. Then she heard paper hitting the ground below. She knew exactly what it was. For years, Erik always left notes for people to see. Usually it was orders, sometimes warnings. It was like his trademark. He was known as the Opera Ghost to everyone, and he would not let his name be ruined. Restraining herself from laughing, she heard Carlotta marching out of the building and the new managers ranting over Erik's requirements. Yes, it was 20,000 francs, reservations for Box Five, and a special welcome. It seemed almost sarcastic the way he put the welcome. Amile almost felt sympathy for the managers. The minute they come in, the leading soprano walks out and they learn that there is a ghost in the building. But, that was not her problem. By that time, she felt Erik leaving. Moving as fast as she could, she took a shortcut to the lair.

Erik walked into the lair, humming something. She shot him the 'let me guess, it's about Christine' look. Being blind never held her down. She knew what expressions were. He ignored her and waltzed over to the organ. "Christine is going to sing tonight. On stage!" He laughed happily, making Amile grin. Oh how he would feel when he found out about Christine's little crush. "That's great for her." she responded, hiding the sarcasm. A laugh came from him again. "I know. Isn't it? Finally, for the first time in years, my work displayed. I can't wait to see her."

"I can." she said under her breath. Luckily, he didn't hear her because he started playing the organ rather loudly.

As Amile planned, Erik found out about Raoul. But not about Christine and Raoul. The only way he had found out was because Raoul was inhabiting Box Five. Amile didn't like it either. Even though she did feel the urge to get the ultimate revenge on her father for drooling over Christine, it was still Erik's box. He stormed around the lair, cursing like a sailor. "That insolent little boy. He thinks just because he's paying for the opera that he can take over it! What else does he think he can do?" Amile deeply wanted to say, "Oh, just take the girl that you are obsessively in love with." but she didn't. Her lips just curved into a slight smile.

Erik managed to find a place underground that he could hear Christine singing. Amile could hear her just about anywhere, much to her annoyance. She followed her father and sat down by where he was standing. He looked up and smiled. "Do you hear that? She sounds like an angel." If it wasn't for the fact that her father was standing right next to her, Amile would have covered her ears. But then she heard Christine. She did sound like an angel. The notes went up and down smoothly. He closed his eyes.

"My soprano angel." he whispered.

After Christine finished, the audience erupted with applause. It was like an intense wave of pure thunder. Now Amile felt some more jealousy. Christine was ruining everything. Her voice acted like a trap on the minds of the audience, her teacher, everyone. Now Amile felt like sobbing and running. But she didn't. Her father would think she was jealous and yell at her then abandon her. She didn't want to lose him again. But judging by the way Erik was acting, she wasn't sure if the life they shared together would last.


	14. Nothing But Trouble

I continue! Yay! I'm writing as much as I can. Stupid school, getting in my way. I will also introduce the newest sport, RAOUL BASHING, very soon! This chapter is kind of short, but who cares, I'll make up for it in the next chapter! Anyway, read!

Chapter 14: Nothing But Trouble

It had been not even a half an hour after Christine's debut that Erik was running around the lair, cleaning up a little bit. He stopped and looked at Amile, her, of course, not really looking back. "Listen, Amile, you can't be down here for one day, okay? Christine is coming down here and I don't need her to see you again." Amile felt like Erik had stabbed her in the heart. Now he really didn't want her. She should have jumped when she had the chance. She brought her eyes down sadly. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Just do it, for me, for Christine." Then her eyes shot up, anger burned in them. Now she really wished she could see so that he could see her real anger.

"I will not do anything for that brat! Ever since I even said something to you about her, you've been all obsessive! She is going to cause you nothing but trouble and I know it!"

In a sudden flash of anger, he smacked her across the cheek. Her head was jerked to the side and stayed that way. Then she slowly turned it back, giving him the saddest face she could produce.

"I hope you're happy now. You have her and you lost me."

She turned around and ran out, not caring if she fell in a trap. She would happily die now and not care. It would be a relief.

He stood stunned, looking where she once stood. Then he looked at his hand. What had he done? It was his own daughter for heaven's sake! He clenched it into a fist. "I'm sorry." he whispered. "I'm so sorry." He looked back to where his minature of the stage was. Christine's doll stood there, looking almost as beautiful as the real one. Amile sounded as if she meant everything she said. But he shook the thought from his head. He loved Christine so much. Then he walked over to where the model of Christine stood, the wedding dress put on her would look exceptional on the real one. He touched the side of the model's face and sighed. What he was going through felt like a mental tug-of-war. On one side was his daughter and on the other was the love of his life. Soon, he would have to choose.


	15. Heartbreak

As I said, this one is going to be kind of long. So no complaining! Yes, little innocent Amile is getting jealous! And now Erik is going to have to make a decision whether he wants her or Christine. Heavy stuff, no? Yes, this is Amile's point of view when Christine goes to the lair for the first time. So this ought to be interesting. And, yet again, I use my special German knowledge for the title. I was listening to 'Herzeleid' by Rammstein when I wrote this chapter. And 'Herzeleid' means 'heartbreak'. And as someone suggested, a little hint of some E/A romance. Very little though. Anyway, grab a mochalatte (hurrah for Varyssa!) and enjoy!

Chapter 15: Heartbreak

Amile curled up in the rafters and sobbed. Everything she really loved was being pulled away from her by Christine. Erik had abandoned her anyway. Christine would pay dearly for this, even if it meant breaking Erik's own heart. It would never live up to what she was feeling. He would never know what it was like to be blind and unloved. The two did not mix together very well. All Amile could think of was how to get Erik back. In a spark of anger, she thought of how to get Christine away from him.

She went down to the dressing room area again to the end of the hall where Christine was, then she felt Erik nearby. She hid behind the door that she had hid behind to hide from Christine so many years ago. She heard his footsteps then a lock clicked. As soon as she knew he was gone, she ran up and pressed her ear against the door. A cold feeling swept over her. Any source of warmth in the theatre seemed to be extinguished. Then she heard Erik's voice practically explode into the room. He was using the ventriloquism trick that he knew so well. Christine sang back to him in the sweetest voice she could. Amile felt her rage almost subside when she heard the young soprano. She was like a siren that Amile had heard so many stories about. A siren's voice was supposed to bring someone in and kill them. It was like a trap. That was exactly what Christine was doing. Her voice would be Erik's end. Then Erik's voice mirrored the siren trick by singing in a hypnotizing way. With that, Amile leapt from her spot and took a shortcut to the lair.

Luckily for Amile, she got there just as she saw Erik and Christine in the boat, just coming in. She heard the normally calm water being disrupted. In a quick movement, she was behind her bed and pressed her back to hit, trying to calm herself. Erik and Christine sang back and forth to eachother. Then the voices quieted. To Amile's surprise and fear, she felt Erik come closer. Did he know she was there? Instead, he placed a sleeping Christine on Amile's bed. Amile knew this when she felt the curtain touch the back of her neck. Then Erik left.

Amile quietly followed him, using her instincts to hide behind everything. Then she followed him to where he stood by the lake. Cautiously, she stood behind him. Afraid he might smack her again. He sighed gently. "Amile, I won't hurt you, I promise." He probably heard her approach. He turned around and put his hands on her shoulders gently. "I honestly promise." Her sparkling eyes looked up at him, not focusing on him, but somewhere close. "Do you really promise?" she asked softly, sounding like a child. In answer, she felt his lips touch her's in his way of rectifing a promise. He pulled away gently.

"Yes, I do."

She stood in shock, amazed he had kissed her like that. His hands never left her shoulders. "I'm your father, I can do that." he said, in almost a joking manner. She was still shocked. He hugged her tightly, then left.

The whole night, Amile laid on her blanket behind her bed. She could only think of the kiss. Sure he was her father, but not her bilogical father. He may have meant it just in a family kind of way, but then again, judging the state his mind was in, it could have meant anything. She heard Christine get up and start singing again. Would the girl ever shut up? Amile stayed behind the bed, listening intently. There was a silence before she heard Erik start yelling and swearing. A very small smile came over the girl. Christine had made a bad mistake, she pulled off Erik's mask. The cursing continued and Amile couldn't help but smile at Christine's sobs. Now she knew what pain felt like. Then a silence came over again and she could hear a forgiving silence from Erik. He could never stop loving Christine, it was against his nature. Though the thought of the kiss was still showing that he still loved his daughter. This only dulled the pain of Amile's hearbreak.


	16. Return Of The Blood Ghost

Yay! You really do love me! Yes, the reviews are what I live on, then again, they're what Amile lives on too. I live on reviews, ramen noodles, mochalattes, and my dog and my sister bugging me all the time. Fun to be me, no? I'm also following the movie guidelines because it seems more practical. I did like how Leroux had the chandelier fall when Carlotta stared singing, but moving the crash to the end seems more practical to me. And here the Raoul bashing begins! ::hands out sticks with metal spikes on the ends:: Oh how I dislike that flaming queen. ::evil grin:: Bash away my reviewer children, bash away!

Chapter 16: Return Of The Blood Ghost

Erik had returned Christine to the opera house again. From what Amile had heard, Christine had taken a couple sick days that had to be filled in by Carlotta. Amile missed running around the theatre now. But she probably could, now that Erik seemed to be in some sort of trance. He probably would never notice her. But she didn't want to go against the precautions he set for her after the scenery incident. She took that as a caring motion from him. Even when he was going against her, sometimes his sweet, parental side would come to play, as though it was reaching for Amile through the obsessive outer-shell.

One night, about a week after Christine had stayed the night, Amile laid on her bed. She felt almost disguted that Christine had laid there as well. She pawed at her sheets like a dog trying to get the sense out. Finally, getting tired of disgusted clawing, she collapsed. As she was trying to sleep, she felt a hand stroking her hair. Opening one eye that still revealed total darkness, as usual, she glanced upwards. Seeing nothing, she still knew it was Erik. He sat on the bed and kissed her cheek. Then his finger traced her jawline.

"Oh Amile, I wish you knew how much I do love you. I really do. But, I love Christine as well. I feel I must choose between you. And I don't know who."

The spark rekindled in her heart, causing anger to flow through her. But she kept herself still, allowing Erik to kiss her cheek one last time before he got up and went to Christine again.

As soon as she was sure that he left, she got up. An idea had come about in her mind. No one said the 'Blood Ghost' was actually gone. But now it would be different. While the 'Opera Ghost' seemed harmless, the 'Blood Ghost' was the chaos represented throughout the theatre. But Erik was more well known now. Everyone now thought that Erik was the real Blood Ghost. She knew that she had to prove them wrong. Finding one of her father's spare masks, she hunted down some paint. She used her sense of touch to know what color. She found that each color had a different heat intensity. For instancewhite had the lowest, while black had the highest. She felt the black paint and began painting away like mad. Then she found the red and worked with that. Her wish to see restarted as she finished. Her goal was to make a mask so horrific, everyone would cower in fear of her. And it would be her's.

She found her red blanket after she was sure the paint had dried and put it on. Then she put the mask on. For some reason, she felt like a new person. Her heart raced and her fingers twitched excitedly. She was ready to reclaim what was rightfully her's.

In some sort of delighted, yet sickening glee, she pranced upstairs. She felt her way around quickly and quietly. Right when she felt that she was close to the stage, a voice stopped her. "Who are you?" it demanded. It was a man's voice. She shrank into the shadows and hissed, "Who are you?" He growled.

"I am the Vicomte de le Changy. My first name is Raoul. Now answer me."

She cackled wickedly. "I am the Blood Ghost, sir. I have lived in this theatre for my whole life. Now will you excuse me?" He laughed slightly. "Blood Ghost, eh? Step out of those shadows and show me." She growled back at him. "No, I refuse." He sighed gently. "Well then, if you have lived here all your life, do you know where Christine Daae is?" She laughed almost insanely. So this was Christine's childhood sweetheart. "Well, Monsieur, I don't think you are worthy of any secrets of this opera." He scoffed at her. "Excuse me madame. I'll have you know that I am donating to this place, now tell me where Mademosielle Daae is!"

"Oh, you may pay for this place, but you don't own it. Now move out of my way."

"No."

"You try my patience you fool."

She growled at him threatingly. "Move or you will regret it." He laughed again. He was annoying her. "Why should I?" She made it clear why when she stepped out of the shadows, revealing herself. Mask and all. He gasped in horror. Then she heard he leap out of the way. She laughed and waltzed passed him, casually. "You do not annoy the Blood Ghost." she said clearly.


	17. She's My Daughter

Oh how the love pours in. I figured out where the rest of the story is going to go in the shower this morning, so, yeah. But don't worry! The fic will live on for many more chapters! And very soon, Amile's going to get her sight back. Yay for Amile! This chapter is kind of straying away from the original story just a bit, as in Erik suddenly goes back into super-parent mode, but does that really matter? No, not really. Don't worry, in this, Amile and Erik cannot be seen by any management, so they're safe. Don't know what I'm talking about? Well then, READ IT!

Chapter 17: She's My Daughter

No one but Raoul knew about the Blood Ghost as she was very good at hiding. Lord only knew where Erik was, but she couldn't tell. But she did feel kind of guilty for not obeying him. He was trying, and she could understand that. For some reason though, she couldn't forgive him for hurting her. Fathers just don't do that to their daughters.

After getting the feeling of the opera back in her, Amile hid herself behind the main stairs. She, for the first time in a long time, felt complete. No worries came over her. Now she felt she could return to the lair in high spirits. As she stepped out of her hiding place, she heard a voice that she knew too well.

"Amile? What are you doing out here?"

It was Erik. How could she not feel him close to her? She inched away from him, in shame. "I'm sorry." she whispered. She felt his fingers touch her mask. "What on earth is this thing?" Now she was trembling. "I-I'm really sorry. I am!"

They were interrupted by a woman's voice. "Excuse me? But can you help me?" The woman approached them without fear, probably thinking they were actors. Amile tried to make it look like she wasn't blind by trying to focus on where the woman was. Erik spoke gently. "What do you need?" The woman cleared her voice. "Well, I'm looking for a girl. She would be about fifteen or so now. Very dark hair and blue eyes. But, um..." her voice dropped to a whisper. "She's blind." Amile felt her body freeze up. That was her this woman was describing. Erik looked at her sideways. "Why?" The woman cleared her throat again.

"She's my daughter."

Amile felt her father also freeze up. Then she felt the woman look at her. Amile, on her own free will, removed her mask and moved her eyes up to 'look' at this person who claimed to be her mother.

The woman gasped. "Danielle?" she whispered. Amile felt her anger rise. "My name is Amile." she hissed. The woman walked up to her daughter. "I named you Danielle, but apparently that changed." Amile sent a heated glare at her mother. "As well as other things." she hissed. The woman put her hand on her daughter's shoulders. "I know that we have never met. But your real father has become very rich in England and I came to see if you were alive. I thought someone might take you in, and here you are." Then Amile felt Erik stand behind her. "Excuse me madame, but I am her father now." Amile nodded. The woman backed up. "But in legal terms, she is mine." Erik put his hands on Amile's shoulders tightly, in an angry grasp.

"Well then. Some mother you are, causing your daughter to be blind. Yes, that is so parental indeed."

The woman took a step forward. "I did it for her saftety, so that if she was to die, she would't have to watch it happen. And if she lived, she wouldn't see the horror of the world around her." Then Erik smiled. "Oh, hide the horror of the world around her, eh? Well, hate to tell you, but it is only temporary. She will see again. But I don't think you know horror. This, my dear lady, is horror." With a simple movement, he took of his mask and was greeted with a terrified gasp. He put it back in. "No, madame, she is my daughter." The woman was still trembling, judging by the aura of fear around her. Then she turned around and ran out of the building.

Amile turned around and smiled at her father, then hugged him tightly. He kissed the top of her head gently. Then tears came to her eyes. He would have never let her go with someone that had hurt he so badly in the past. Just that one action showed all the love in the world to her. She buried her head into his chest and sobbed. "Thank you." she whispered. He stroked her hair gently and took her back to the lair, knowing full well that no one in the world could ever take his place in his daughter's heart. She was his daughter.


	18. Tried To Warn You

Due to the fact that I do not feel like facing Fox of the Nova's wrath, I had to write this, or I may be dead. O.o I don't feel like dying. SPARE MEEEE!!! Hey, if you kill me, I will never be able to write again! Hehe, think about THAT ONE! I had the worst urge to put the Persian in here because I'm listening to 'Mundian To Bach Ke' by Pun'jabi MC. But alas, that would screw a lot of things up. So now I write!

Chapter 18: Tried To Warn You

Erik was planning something now. Amile was almost afraid of what it was. He was at his little minature of the stage, laughing slightly. The scratching of his quill on the paper was insanely fast. He only wrote like that and acted like that when he planned something. "Daddy?" she said gently. He gave an acknowledged grunt. She sighed. "What are you doing?" Sitting up, he looked at the minature stage and smiled. "That Carlotta will regret it if she decides to take Christine's place ever again." Amile rolled her eyes. "Oh Christine, I should have known." A soft growl came from him. "I know you dislike her, but could you not ruin my mood?" It struck her odd that he did not react violently when she talked about Christine. He cackled again. Now she was fearing for his sanity.

Soon, she heard the news about the newest opera. Christine was to be the lead, the countess. While Carlotta was to be the page-boy, a silent roll. If the orders were not obeyed, there would be a disaster. In a panic, she ran to find Madame Giry. She knew that her father could be very dangerous when he wanted to be. And she knew how defiant the managers were. The night would end in chaos. She knew chaos better than anyone. Though her father was known sometimes as the trap-door lover, she was known as the master of chaos. But her father taught her everything she knew from his own knowledge. She merely enhanced what she knew.

To her relief, she found Madame Giry backstage, monitoring the prop set-up. She could tell because of the ballet teacher barking orders. Carefully hiding behind the curtain, she whispered, "Madame Giry!" Luckily, no one heard her but Mme. Giry. She came over to the curtain and looked. "Amile?" Amile nodded, her eyes on the floor. "I need to tell you something important."

"Madame? Is something wrong?" came a man's voice. Madame Giry spoke very fast.

"Oh, just a ballerina having a problem with her costume."

She turned back to Amile and took her hand. "Come with me."

They went to a small room that could have probably been the old storage room. Madame Giry led Amile to a crate to sit on. "Now what do you want to tell me?" Amile thought about what words to use.

"You got the letters, correct?"

"Yes."

Amile let out a sigh. "Well, they must be obeyed. I know Erik better than I probably know myself. He taught me all I know. And you know what I can do. Well, he can do it so much better than me. If his orders aren't obeyed. Someone will get hurt. I just know it. I don't want that to happen. Suprisingly, I feel guilty over hurting those ballerinas when I was younger."

Mme. Giry was silent. "I will tell the managers. They are idiots, so they may not listen."

Amile hid behind a statue as she listened to Mme. Giry speak with the managers.

"Opera Ghost? Again with that stupid thing! I will not be obeying this silly little fairy tale like a slave!" M. Firmin ranted.

Disappointment washed over Amile. They were going to regret the night. The opera would be a disaster. Erik was smarter than anyone she knew. And he didn't care if he had to kill a hundred men to get Christine right where he wanted her to be. She shook her head sadly. Then she gently whispered, "I tried to warn you."


	19. Murderer

Well, then, now I must defend myself from the flying monkeys now, eh? ::goes to basement:: MUAHAHAHAHA!!! They'll never find me down here! ::looks around all paranoid-ish:: Oh, and to Kaya DC Pandora, yay for LOK and Phantom! Oh how I love Raziel. ::drools:: Anywho, I find myself updating, yet again, nothing changes. Bleah. And I am going to take some suggestions and twist the plot some more. How the plot twisting pleases me. And now comes the infamous Buquet scene. YAY DEATH! Anyway, read or I shall send Audron the Phantom Pigeon after you!

Chapter 19: Murderer

Trying to control Erik was a hopeless task. Amile tried so hard to. She knew most of his plans for the night. Ill Muto would end horribly. His sanity seemed to be draining slowly from him. His mad ideas went to their fullest extent and he wrote little notes to himself, mumbling and cursing over things he knew wouldn't work. It was scaring his daughter now, and she knew that this night was going to be chaotic.

Amile sat on her bed in the lair, listening to her father talking happily about how Christine would do. Amile cleared her throat and he shut up. "Yes?" he asked. She brought her eyes down. "Well, I told Madame Giry about this, and that something bad would happen. I tried to warn her. She understood and told the managers, but they aren't going to do what you say." He laughed like someone would laugh at a joke.

"Oh, not going to obey, are they? Well, this night will change their minds."

He laughed again, sending shivers down Amile's spine. Then he regained his composure. He took Amile's hand in his. "My dear daughter, how about joining me tonight for the opera?" She gulped and nodded hesitantly. He stroked her hair gently, "Good, I'm sure tonight's performance will be first rate." She knew her father's sarcasm more than anyone else in the world. Another laugh erupted from him and he went back to planning.

Slowly, she got dressed. She wore a dark blue dress that laced up with black laces in the back. Erik had chosen it for her, thinking she would look beautiful in it, and she did. Erik laced up the back and touched her shoulder gently. "You look like an angel Amile." She merely nodded in thanks, too afraid to be flattered. Planting one last kiss on the top of her head, he went to get ready. She sat on her bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. Grasping her red blanket, she curled up tighter until she heard his voice, a smile evident in it, "Come along darling, time to go."

They went to Box Five and she hid in the shadows while Erik practically leaned out of the box. He seemed so excited that he could barely contain himself. She had never witnessed him being like this. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, hugging her blanket tighter. "I'll be back soon." he said gently. By soon, he probably meant, when I'm done. The door opened and closed and she sat down on the floor, wanting to hide from the world.

The show started and she listened to Carlotta reciting her lines and the songs that followed. That was when Erik's voice boomed into the room, causing gasps. Amile suddenly had a strange feeling in her. She got up and put her blanket around her. She had to stop him before it got out of hand. As Erik did before, she pranced out of the door and ran to the backstage.

It was very crowded and she could sense it. She felt Erik very close by. Much like a dog tracking a scent, she followed it. Then she found him. He was looking down at the stage from one of the rafters, very amused judging by the little laughs coming from him. "What did you do?" she asked angrily. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, nothing too horrible. It will get that toad off the stage though." A disappointed feeling took over her, she was too late. Carlotta started singing when suddenly, she let out the strangest noise to hit Amile's ears. "Co-ack!" A great laugh erupted from Erik. "You see? I have exterminated the vermin!" People laughed at Carlotta, causing her to go into hysterics. The maestro tried to calm everyone down. The curtains shut and Erik took her arm in his hand. "Come along, I don't need you to be here now." She fought against him. "No, there are too many innocent people out there that can get hurt!" He pulled harder.

"Innocent? Have they not all commited at least one sin in their lifetime! I am exterminating the vermin!"

She growled. "Then you would have to exterminate me as well. I am not innocent in any way!" He let go of her in almost a shocked way. Then he settled himself down. "You are nothing like them Amile. You have grown up different. You know what needs to be done and when to do it. As do I." Then he stormed away.

Reluctantly, Amile left the rafters. She felt Erik go back to the place where he stood shortly before. Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh God, what is he going to do?" she said, shivering at the thought. He was Erik, the Phantom of the Opera. He could do anything he wanted. Talent was one thing he had so much of. But she wished he would use it to do better things than what he did sometimes. She liked the music he made and the stories he wrote. But sometimes he scared her with what he did. He never liked anything, but obsessed over it, and that was what scared her.

She could hear the ballet going on below her as she sat in the high rafters. Tears slid from her eyes like streams of water. Her eyes opened suddenly as she heard a struggle going on under her. Quickly, she jumped down from the rafters to where the struggle was. Someone was choking. "No..." she whispered. Erik was killing someone. "NO!" she said loudly. But it was too late again. This time, loud screams came up. Off all of Erik's talents, his talent with the Punjab lasso was deadly. And he proved it. She heard the choking some more until it just stopped. Erik had hung someone. "Daddy..." she said softly. He turned to her and sighed. "And the exterminator wins again." he said gently. Her eyes watered up again. "You murderer!" she yelled. He laughed insanely. "I know I am! But I am no murderer. I am the Phantom of the Opera!" She choked on her tears and ran away.

Down in the lair, she sobbed on her bed. The tears wouldn't stop flowing. How could her father do that? And she still didn't know who was the victim. She felt Erik enter the room and stroke her back gently. "I'm so sorry Amile, but it had to be done."

"Who was it?" she asked softly. "Joseph Buquet, that pervert for a stage changer." She felt her sadness subside. Buquet was known throughout the opera house as a great storyteller and a pervert. But now he was known for being killed right on stage. She sat up and wiped her eyes. He touched the side of her face. "You know why I did it, right?" She nodded. He let out a sound of satisfaction and walked back out. Then she added quietly, "That still doesn't change anything."


	20. Know How I Feel

My God! Chapter 20 already! WAAAGGHHH!!! FLYING LIONS! ::sniffles:: I hope I made you happy you crazy fox woman. Now you sick me with insane flying animals!?! I fear you. I have now realized how much I really do like Nine Inch Nails. O.o Weird, no? YAY TRENT!!! I was doing this weird dance to 'Sin' and I wish I could have video-taped it. Agghhhh! I make so many errors! Forgiveth me! Yes, this chapter is short, again, but don't worry, if you know me well enough, I always make up for it! Anyway, read this lovely piece of twenty-ness.

Chapter 20: Know How I Feel

Amile was aware that Erik was now practically stalking Christine. He now followed her everywhere. But now he had chased her and Raoul up to the roof. Amile had the strange feeling again. She ran out of the lair as fast as she could, only pausing to put her blanket around her and putting on her own bloody mask. Even though she still felt scared to see what Erik might do to Raoul if he found out about how the young couple really felt about eachother, when she put her mask on, she felt a new sense of bravery.

Prowling to the upper-roof, she hid behind a large statue and listened. Christine spoke to Raoul so gently, she sounded so scared. If it wasn't for the fact that Amile hated her, she might have had sympathy for the young singer. She sounded so afraid of this obssessive Phantom following her. Then they started singing to eachother with the passion only close lovers could produce. Amile felt bad for Erik at that point. She knew he was hiding behind Apollo's Lyre and he probably felt horrible. She could just feel his heart breaking. Then she knew that Christine and Raoul kissed when she heard Erik let out a quiet choked sob. That's when Raoul and Christine left to go to wherever they were going. Far away probably.

Erik slowly left his shelter behind the statue and dropped to the ground, singing the most mournful song that Amile had ever heard. She felt the intense sadness coming from him. His voice was trembling so badly. When he finished, he ran back to the statue and his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, sobbing. Slowly, she approached him, kneeling next to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Daddy?" she whispered. He choked out another sob again. She prodded him again. "Daddy? Are you okay?" He stopped and placed his hand on her's. She laid next to him and hugged him from the back. "It's okay daddy, I'm right here for you." He rolled over and touched her face where the mask was. "Amile." he said gently. He took her into his arms and held her to him in a tight embrace. Then he pulled back and looked at her. He slowly took her mask off and his lips met her's again. A shock ran through her and it seemed like all her senses were numbed.

He pulled away and slowly stood up, handing her the mask back. Still in shock, she placed it back on. She timidly followed her father to the lair again, sneaking past the management that was tending to Buquet's body. They went into the lair and he took off his mask. He rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry Amile. I feel so messed up right now." Her eyes drifted to the side again and she sighed. "Now you know I feel." He nodded and stood up. "For once, I really want to sleep."

Amile laid on her bed, contemplating why he had kissed her again. The first time, she could let that go, but this was the second time, and it seemed like he meant it, yet again. Her mind was running with the thoughts of it. Trying every possible theory as to why he had kissed her. Then she realized it with a horrific feeling. He was acting as though she was Christine.


	21. Do I Dream Again?

::hugs plushie Erik:: Yay! I get presents! Plushie Erik says hi! Fox of the Nova, whom since I am lazy, I will call Fox if you let me, gave me this Erik cuteness! ::gives you uber-cute Amile plushie with removable Blood Ghost mask and red blankie because you rock:: So, I feel like writing some more. Don't worry, Erik and Amile aren't like, really in love. Erik is just a bit crazy at the moment. And don't hate Erik! He's adorable in his own right! ::holds up Plushie Erik in example:: See? He's a good parent, sometimes. Ah, well. This is a little part in between Buquet's death and the Masquerade, which gives me lots to work with! Which also means father-daughter bonding! Yay!

Chapter 21: Do I Dream Again?

Amile still felt emotionally distraught since the night on the roof. She rarely talked to Erik after figuring out what he was really doing. She was more fatigued as well. Life without her father to at lease acknowledge her was catching up to her. Nights passed and still, nothing came from him. No love, no attention. She might has well not even been born. She tried to make that statement clear to him, but it was impossible. This was Erik. There was no way to put something into his head that he didn't pay attention to. She felt herself drifting from him. A promise had been made that she would never try to commit suicide again, and she would never break that promise.

Much to the teenager's happiness, Raoul and Christine would be gone for awhile. Raoul annoyed her since he thought he was all high and mighty and Christine annoyed her for obvious reasons. It was a relief to have them both gone for a long amount of time. The only problem was Erik became more insane without his love. Without Christine, he was a wreck. It didn't matter if Amile was around him or not. She missed the times when she was around and Erik would just pick her up and take her to the organ and play on it together, or when he would read to her. But that was when she was a child. Now she was older and less innocent.

One night, Amile went up to her father who was writing more little poems about Christine. He did this every night without stopping. "Daddy? Can I ask you something?" He stopped and looked at her. "Yes?" She tried to think of a good way to put it, "Who exactly am I?" It seemed like the question hung in the air for a minute before going to Erik. He had told her about the night he found her, basically what the weather was like and that she was forced to be blind. He didn't know where she came from or who she was before. He had briefly met her mother, and not in a good way either. He sighed and took her hand gently. "Amile, I don't know. I wish I did. I found you when you were only about two-years-old. I only know you were blind and in a pile of rags in an alley. That is it. That's all I know." She obviously looked disappointed because she touched her arm gently. "I wish I knew all the answers Amile, but you have a very complex background." She merely nodded and went to bed.

As she dozed off, something happened that hadn't happened in years. She dreamt. Her dream seemed so real to her. There was a very young woman cradling a baby girl on a bed, singing in German is what it sounded like. Then she saw a lot of fire and people running, screaming, crying. The young woman holding the baby was joined with a young man. His eyes were a turquoise blue much like Amile's was. She knew the color for some reason. He also had the messy brown hair. He took the baby from the woman gently and jumped a fence, only to get shot a few minutes later. "William!" screamed the young woman. She ran to the man's side, some of her dress tearing on the fence. The baby girl was safely in her father's arms too. He was barely alive. He smiled gently at his daughter and sang very softly:

"_Hoppe hoppe Reiter_  
und kein Engel steigt herab  
_mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter_  
nur der Regen weint am Grab  
_hoppe hoppe Reiter_  
eine Melodie im Wind  
_mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter_  
und aus der Erde singt das Kind"

He smiled one last time at his child and laid his head down and died. The woman sobbed as she picked up her crying baby. Looking around quickly, she found a metal stick-like object, probably a part of the fence. She set her daughter down and hit her on the back of the neck with the stick. The baby screamed, but did not die, only went unconcious. The woman hit hard enough, as Erik had said, enough to bend the circuit, but not break it. The woman was crying very hard now and stumbled with the child in her arms. She walked all night, very weak and near death. Then, it was daylight by a road that a young couple was walking down. The young woman stumbled up to the couple. "Please, bitte..." she said, choking on her own words. The man in the couple picked up the baby and looked at the dying woman. The young woman smiled weakly at the couple. "Take, care, of, her." she said shakily. Then she collapsed to the ground and died.

Amile shot up in her bed, sweating, the world black around her as it had always been. The woman who had come to her a couple days ago had not been her real mother, just her adoptive mother. It all made sense. That meant she was really German. And the song that William had sang to her as he was dying, Erik had sang the exact same song! She laid back down, wiping away the sweat. Now she knew who she was.


	22. Darkness Breaks

So now you all know who Amile is. Yay! I might as well do a lot of writing for the next three days because I'm going to be gone up north all weekend. Just telling you now since I update about everyday. I am also kind of sick right now with a fever, so that might have something to do with my writing being insane, and I have final exams all this week, which also causes my brain to go on total meltdown. But these are the trials I go through to make you all happy. That's all I need is the happiness ::cough:: reviews ::cough:: and I'm okay. So be happy my little friends, obey the feverish one!

Chapter 22: Darkness Broken

Erik had started being concerned about his daughter. Her life seemed to fade. Her eyes, once so full of life and color, had drained to a dull gray. She had paled drastically. All color seemed to have been washed from her. He didn't know if it was about Christine or was just that she was upset. But he had seen her around Christine, she was more firey and angry. Something was very wrong.

He decided to find out what was so wrong with her. She sat by the edge of the lake and gently dipped her feet in it. "Amile?" he said softly. She didn't turn her head or even acknowledge him. He sat next to her and touched her back gently. "Amile, what's wrong?" She still didn't answer. He sighed and pulled his feet up to his chest. "Is this about that question you asked me last night?" She sighed sadly. He nodded. "I said I wished I knew, but I don't."

"I do." she answered quietly.

His eyes widened. "How?" She pulled her feet back in and moved her head up, making it look as though she was looking at the ceiling. "Dreams tell a lot." He contemplated it, then nodded in agreement. "Yes, they do." She brought he her head back down. "That woman, a couple days ago, that was not my mother. My mother died when I was very young. My father is dead too. He was shot when he was running from those people." Erik sat closer to her, now absorbed in the conversation. "What people?" She too pulled her knees to her chest. "I don't know. But they killed everyone. From what I heard and saw in my dream, I am not French, I am German." He stroked her back again. "I'm so sorry Amile. I wish I could tell you everything, but I am not even your real father. I just take care of you, and I don't think I do much of a good job of it." To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around and him and put her head on his shoulder. "Don't lie to yourself." she whispered. He smiled and hugged her back.

Amile couldn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned, trying to bring herself to at least dozing. But her mind refused. The dream annoyed her. Everything confused her. It was like a scar on her. It had stopped bleeding years ago, but it never left. It was still buried in her, and the skin was not strong enough to cover it. She sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes. Fatigue was nagging at her, mocking her. In a movement of desperation and anger, she slammed her head down, expecting to hit a pillow. Instead, the top of the bed connected with the back of her neck. Before she could even scream, she fell unconcious.

The morning fell upon her. Amile yawned, the back of her neck aching. Still tired, she pulled her blankets over her head miserably. She had a massive headache she thought wouldn't leave her for about another week. Knowing it was hopeless to stop the headache, she pulled the covers off and yawned again. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and opened them, then gasped.

She could see again.


	23. You're Lying

I'm so sorry for the delay. I was going to post this last night but I fell asleep! My doctor says I have...INFLUENZA AND TONSILITIS! Fun, no? Isn't it ironic that a couple of days after I make Amile get sick, I get the same sickness? Anyway, thank you for the get well wishes. And the Erik plushies, and the peanut butter cookies (courtesy of Singeriter!) And thank you to Fox for being like my mom and telling me what to do. I drank three cups of soup and slept for five hours during the day. Yay for you all! Now read or get infected!

Chapter 23: You're Lying

Amile looked around quickly, taking everything in. It was as though night had become day very quickly. Everything was so bright and vibrant to her. Was it a dream? No, it wasn't. She held up her old blanket and smiled. No wonder she was called the Blood Ghost. She stretched out a little bit, still looking everywhere. A smile took over her. Then a frown overlapped it. She would have to look at Erik. She had never actually seen him, but she had heard enough to know that it wasn't going to be pretty.

She slowly approached where the organ was. Her eyes looked around excitedly, taking in everything. And no surprise to her, Erik was sitting at the organ, composing something. She smiled and remembered the song he made that she liked so much. The one that burned and soothed her. Quietly, she approached him, then stopped. Did she really want to tell Erik that she could see again? He had been so used to her being blind, how would he react to this? That's when she decided she wouldn't tell him for awhile. Let him figure it out for himself.

She put her hand on his shoulder and he turned to face her. He was wearing his mask and from the looks of it, he didn't look too bad. He smiled at her. "Did you sleep good?" She pretended to look behind him so it gave her the affect of still not being able to focus. She nodded and smiled back. "I just kind of have a headache this morning. I don't know why." He took her into his arms and rubbed the back of her neck gently. "Right there?" She nodded. He continued rubbing it. "Probably trying to put itself back in order." She paled. Did he know? He let her go and smiled again. "Don't worry Amile, someday, you'll be able to see again. I know it." She let her eyes go up to the ceiling. 'If you only knew.' she thought to herself.

Now she wanted to see everything. Sneaking past Erik, she ran upstairs. The sight of the opera house practically took her breath away. She had been running around this? It seemed so big. She walked around, in the shadows of course. Now she wanted to tell Madame Giry and possibly Meg. Darting around obstacles, such as random cleaning ladies, she made her way to the dorms. She closed her eyes for a second, using her other senses to find where she was going. Even though she had her sight back, she wasn't very reliant on it. She had done quite well with her other senses. She felt her way to Madame Giry's room.

When she got to the door, she knocked. Madame Giry opened it, gasped then smiled. "Hello Amile! Good to see you again." Amile nodded and smiled as well. "Madame Giry, something wonderful happened. I can see again!" Madame Giry gasped again and hugged Amile. "I'm so happy for you!" Amile pulled away and looked up at Madame Giry. "But I didn't tell my father."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what he'll do about it."

Madame Giry looked up sadly. "I don't know either, but he's going to find out sooner or later." Amile sighed and stared off into space. "I know, that's what scares me." Mme. Giry sighed again and looked at the girl before her. "Amile, tell him. He's your father. I'm sure he will be excited about it." Amile nodded and looked down at her feet and bit her lip. Mme. Giry placed a reassuring hand on Amile's shoulder. "Just tell him."

On her way back to the lair, Amile decided against telling him. She was scared of him. He had hurt her, betrayed her, abandoned her. She couldn't trust him now. Not with something as big as getting her sight back. God only knew what he would do. He might abandon her completely. The only reason he saved her from the alley was because she was blind and defenseless. Now, he might view her as strong enough to defend herself and she could see. So why would he bother with her? Even though he was always telling her she would see again, would he really be still kind to her in the end?

She stood in front of him, her face pale. He had asked to see her about her headache. He looked her over and lifted up her long hair to see the back of her neck again. He sighed and faced her again, bringing her head up. She diverted her gaze from him to make it look like she was still blind. "Amile? Is something wrong?"

"No, why?"

Then he sighed again and made her look at him. "You're lying to me."


	24. Not A Nightmare

Alas! The sick one updates! I am close to a breakthrough in my health, so yay for me! I was bored so I decided I would just write like I do just about every night. Yes, Erik knows. He's a dad, and dad's know everything, I know from experience. But Amile also hasn't seen Erik's face, and Lord only knows how that's going to go. Well I guess you'll just have to find out then!

Chapter 24: Not A Nightmare

Amile looked straight at her father. He looked very serious. She stuttered, "But, h-how did you know?" He rolled his eyes.

"Old thing I learned a long time ago, in Persia. If a person looks to the right, they're remembering, if they look to the left, they're lying. Your eyes were at the left."

She was shocked. Was it really that easy? He sighed and looked back at her. "What are you lying about then?" Now she was desperate. Everything seemed to be bearing down on her. There was still the question of what would he do if he found out. Her face paled. "I, I can see again." A shocked look came over him. "You can? But how?"

"I hit the back of my neck again, on accident." Her voice was reduced to a whisper. He looked at her, then the floor, then her again. Then he walked back to his chair and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "I've been waiting for this to happen for years." Then he sat up and looked at her. "I can't hide from you forever. I already figured that out." She didn't understand. In an answer, he took off his mask very slowly, in almost a shameful motion.

She gasped, her stomach tightening. He brought his golden green eyes to look at her. "This is the nightmare you have been living with." he said. His right eye was sunken in and his nose was swollen in some places, pushed down in others. There were unnatural bumps and scratches all over that side of his face. Some of his hair was missing and was replaced by more bumps. It was sickening to her. This was what she had been living with. This horrible nightmare that she called her father. Then she looked longer and something changed her mind. His eyes were sad and gentle. Years of ridicule and hate reflected in them. She felt as if her heart was lead. Gently, she touched the disfigured part and smiled weakly. "This is no nightmare." she whispered. Then she wrapped her arms around her father. "This is what I love, more than anything in the world. This is my father." That brought tears to his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her too and cried on her shoulder.

They stayed like that for about an hour. He couldn't stop crying. He felt every bit of hate and shame for himself disappear. He thought about what he had thought many years ago when Amile suggested he should be Christine's angel. He had laughed about the thought of being God's creation. That is, until he thought about what God may have done for him. He had given him Amile. And now Erik believed it as he held her. The hate and shame was taken away by the love his daughter had for him. She had loved him for as long as they had known eachother. And he had sometimes treated her horribly. Slowly, he let Amile go and stood up. She gazed up at him with those beautiful turquoise eyes, glittering with light. A smile came on her face, a true smile. He smiled back at her. Now he felt as if a weight had been lifted from him. The idea that she would hate him or fear him if she saw. But then again, she thought he would hate her if she could see again. It was laughable.

Amile fell asleep on her bed that night, her father watching her sleep. A peaceful look on her face. Her pale lips still smiling. He sat and looked at her. She seemed so innocent. But then again, with one movement, she could destroy so much. She reminded him of a rose sometimes. Beautiful, yet dangerous. He stood up and stretched, the weight of the day bearing down on him. With one last look at his sleeping daughter, he went off to bed.


	25. Plans

Oh Lordy, I'm so sorry, again! I have been so sick lately that the computer just seemed out of reach to me. I do request one thing from anyone who would please give me a timeline of events from the movie, pleaseeee? I get confused about what goes where. Thanks for the patience. I am feeling a lot better, my throat is just sore now, that's all. Now I type more! Woohoo! Yeah, this one is kind of funny just to get you out of the sad mood from the last chapter. Yay funny! Oh yeah, Meg calls Amile Ami just because that's what friends do! I'm also thinking about making a story of Amile just when she was little. Like, a humor story because of how cute she was when she was little! Anywho, read people! READ:eye twitch:

Chapter 25: Plans

Erik was almost proud that his daughter didn't fear him when he took off his mask. She loved him more instead. He felt like it was a bad exchange though. She telling him that she could see again in exchange for him showing his face. But she didn't act like it. Instead, she comforted him. Loving him and making sure he felt ten times better about himself. It had been the first time that someone had been almost neutral about him. His mother was disgusted, the gypsies were horrified or amused, Madame Giry felt tons of pity and sadness. But Amile on the other hand gave him more love than anyone had ever given him.

Much to his surprise, Amile had been unusually lighthearted since the whole thing. She walked around the lair happily, grinning and humming to herself. He watched in amazement as she danced around the place like a ballerina. He watched her as he wrote some notes to some random song. "Amile?" She did a weird spin on her toe to face him. "Yes daddy?" He raised his eyebrow at her. "What, may I ask, is wrong with you?" She shrugged. "Do I have a reason not to be happy?" This made him stop, shrug, then continue writing. Then she stopped again. "You know the Bal Masque is next week?" Now his attention was caught fully. Putting his work aside, he looked at her. "And...?"

"Well, maybe, I was wondering if...I could go? I mean, I'll go with Madame Giry and Meg. Just as like, a friend?"

He considered it. Now that she could see, she would have no problem fitting in. As long as she didn't go as the Blood Ghost and scare everyone half to death. Wait...death? He stalled his thoughts and replaced them with new ones. Maybe he himself would go. Death. Yes, he would go as Death. The Red Death. The thing of old legends. A malicious smile came to his face. "Of course you can go." She squealed in happiness and hugged her father tightly around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" In a flash, she was off to her room to plan everything. He smiled in her direction and shook his head. "Teenagers."

Amile's excitement was almost contagious. Erik too, was excited but held it back easily. He had his own plans. He would go as well, but he would enter in his own way. He sat at his desk, going through his own plans, organizing a mess of papers. Then he thought about his daughter and imagined how beautiful she would look. She wasn't one who liked to stick out much. Though when she was blind, she stuck out because of her red blanket. But she didn't know that. Now that she could see, she blended in. With costumes, especially for a masquerade, she would go in something simple that didn't make everyone stare or laugh. But she would blend anyway. Suddenly, she ran by him as fast as her legs could carry her. "Amile? Where are you going?" She stopped suddenly. "Just, up, there, somewhere." She let out a very nervous laugh. He raised his eyebrow again and glared at her. "Amile, I hate to tell you. You're horrible at lying." She smiled at her father. "Just trust me daddy. I'm not going to get in trouble. Promise!" He sighed and with a wave, dismissed her.

"Oh Madame Giry!" said Amile in a very excited tone as she stood by Mme. Giry's door. The door opened slowly and Mme. Giry poked her head out. Her mouth curved into a smile and she beckoned the teenager inside. "Come in! Meg is downstairs right now trying to sneak a few more things up here. Other than that, your dress is ready." Amile's eyes filled with excitement. She ran in the room and let another squeal come out of her. "Oh Madame Giry! It's beautiful!" she said, holding up a black dress with white underskirts. Madame Giry blushed. "Gabrielle and Lia helped me make it. And before we go, I'll do your hair and everything. Oh, and Meg is also getting something to add to the effect." As soon as she said that, Meg came through the door, holding up two black and white striped sleeves. Amile gasped and hugged Meg. Meg smiled and motioned for Amile to try it all on. Amile didn't wait a minute before going behind the dressing door and putting the dress and sleeves on. When she came out Meg gasped and Madame Giry applauded. "Beautiful darling. Very beautiful." Meg nodded and hugged her friend again. "Oh Ami! You look great!" Amile blushed and pawed the floor with her foot. Madame Giry touched a lock of Amile's dark brown hair and smiled. "Erik will be very proud of you."

As quick as a fox, Amile leaped downstairs with the dress in a bag. When she got back to the lair, she looked around cautiously, making sure Erik wasn't there. She hid the dress behind her bed. "Hello Amile." said a familiar voice. She whirled around and saw Erik in front of her. She grinned nervously. "Hehe, hi daddy!" He looked at her sideways. "What were you doing back there?" She looked around quickly. "Oh, ummmm, I thought there was a rat, that went behind my bed! Yep! Well, it isn't there anymore. I don't think there was a rat at all!" She felt herself blushing and he shook his head. "I mean it. You couldn't lie yourself through a crowd of the most gullible people in the world!" She laughed. "Really, it's nothing. I swear there was a rat!" Erik gave a dismissive nod. "Okay Amile. I believe you." She smiled and hugged her father quickly before running off again. He looked at where she was a minute ago. He looked down sadly, almost with guilt. He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out his mask for the masquerade. It looked like part of a skull. "Do I really want to do this? I mean, it will be her first night out in public." he whispered to himself, setting the mask back in its place. He shook his head and sighed. "Yes... I do." he answered.


	26. Dmitri

I must be like, sick in the head, I have lost my trademark for updating quickly! I have just been so sick lately, it's ridiculous. I have gotten reasonably better though! But everyone at my school is sick so I got reinfected. Booo... And yes, Erik is going to be a classic dad and ruin his daughter's first prom/masquerade/whatever! Muahaha, bad Erik. And I still need the timeline because I don't know when the cemetary scene was and that's going to play a key part in the story. Anyway, my friend Lexi said there's now four kinds of Erik. Gaston Leroux's Erik, Susan Kay's Erik, A.L.W.'s Erik, now Totschafe's Erik! Yay! Now read more about Totschafe's little Erik person!

Chapter 26: Dmitri

It was the night of the masquerade and Amile couldn't have been more excited. Erik watched amusedly as Amile waltzed around the lair, grinning happily. She got her dress from behind her bed and ran behind a curtain. A few minutes later, she came back out, grinning almost madly. Erik had a stunned look on his face. She looked beyond beautiful, she was gorgeous. He touched her shoulder and smiled. "You are absolutely beautiful Amile." he said gently, kissing her on the cheek. She smiled and hugged her father. "Thank you daddy! I gotta go now" she said excitedly. As she ran up the stairs, Erik felt his heart weighing down painfully. He couldn't do it. This was her night. The one night that she could be around people. She hid herself long enough. She might as well hide herself among people.

She sat excitedly on the edge of Madame Giry's bed, toying with her mask with her fingers. It was a silver mask looking much like her father's mask. It had a black outline and a white rim around the eye. She smiled at it. Madame Giry was braiding her hair and smiled. She put diamond clips in the hairs to keep it still. It was a nightmare to brush out Amile's unruly and insane hair. To add to that, Amile hadn't been completely compliant with the likes of Mme. Giry's brush. But after some harsh pulls and many yanked out hairs later, Amile's now beautiful hair was the result. The teenager grinned from ear to ear with excitement. "Oh Madame Giry, this night is going to be wonderful" Madame Giry added a couple more pins before going in front of Amile and admiring her work. "Yes, it will be wonderful. Now remember who you are to me." Amile nodded. "Amile LeCrux, distant cousin. Daughter of Stephen LeCrux, famous wine seller in America." Madame Giry nodded. "Yes, you will do very well tonight."

They headed into the ballroom. Amile did feel the worst urge to go to the back halls with the crazy drunk people. Above all things, she hated being with a bunch of posh rich people and keeping herself straight at all times. She walked stiffly, her boots not giving her much grace or balance. She just wanted to rip off the boots and throw them at Carlotta's big ego-filled head. Then run away to the halls where she could go crazy. But she knew Erik and Madame Giry wouldn't like that from her. She stiffly walked in behind Meg and Mme. Giry. A couple boys sent her looks that made her look down and blush. When she got in, she smiled as she saw everyone dancing happily. Then she was approached by a young boy. He had light brown hair pulled into a ponytail and a half black, half white mask in his hand. He bowed to her. His voice had a very Russian accent to it. "Excuse me madamemoislle. Would you care to dance with me" Amile smiled and took his hand. They danced together. Luckily, Erik had given her some dancing lessons. It felt awkward at first, then she felt herself get drawn in.

Erik watched from a window over the balcony, smiling at his daughter. She seemed so happy where she was. There was a boy dancing with her. She seemed almost embarassed by it, then he watched as she slowly got into it. She was angelic out there. His angel. He felt so guilty for what he was to do. He looked at the packet in his hand. A frown graced him and he looked back at his daughter. "Amile..." he whispered. But then he saw Christine and Raoul come in and a spark of anger lit in his heart. The young couple kissed and Erik felt every part of him tense. Amile was off to the side and she too noticed since she was giving Christine a death glare. Now was the time to wreck the party. Both of them were angry at the new couple. Amile seemed like she wanted to run off and hit Christine over the head with something heavy.

The boy that danced with Amile let her go. He stood next to her. "My name is Dmitri Zayachkov. My father is leading in the oil business. Right over there." He pointed to an older man, around 50, dancing with a younger woman. Amile smiled. "My name is Amile LeCrux. My father is Stephen LeCrux, a famous wine seller in America. My aunt is right over there." She pointed at Madame Giry. Dmitri nodded and smiled. "Thank you for dancing with me, now if you'll excuse me, I'm quite thirsty." He headed over to the bar. Amile felt her heart flutter as she watched him. Then she turned her head and her heart turned from butterflies to stone. Christine was back.


	27. Ruiner

Woo! I am alive and perfectly well again! I have thought the remaining plot out which includes more Dmitri! Yay Russian boys! Though Erik doesn't know about Dmitri yet... Muahaha... Now we get to the fun masquerade part! Yay! I love the 'Masquerade' song to Paris and back! It makes me all happy and want to dance around like a loon! And yet again, my trademark, using song titles for chapter titles. This one is 'Ruiner' by Nine Inch Nails, which rocks! So read children! Reaaaaaad!

Chapter 27: Ruiner

Amile felt like running away from the scene. Christine was right there, Raoul next to her. Then she felt Erik not very far away. She closed her eyes and pretended she was blind again. Her senses led her head up to the balcony and she opened her eyes. There she saw a quick red blur. A shiver ran through her. He was here, watching. He had seen Christine now. Her heart stalled. Then she pretended like she didn't know what was going on and went on. Dmitri approached her again. "Amile? Are you okay" She forced a smile. "Of course! I'm just fine" Dmitri smiled back and nodded, looking down. He was blushing. Then he looked up at her. "You do look really beautiful tonight." he said softly. She too blushed, a real smile creeping on her face. Then he kissed her cheek. She froze and looked at the floor, as though the tiles were the only thing in the world. "D-Dmitri. I..." He smiled at her again and took her hand. "Do you want to dance again" She nodded happily.

Erik watched the dancers carefully. Christine and Raoul stood by the doors, holding eachothers' hands. Erik felt his heart beat faster and faster as they kissed. "Christine..." he said softly. He already felt betrayed. Her teacher, who had cared for her all these years, making sure nothing would happen to her, now she betrayed him. They began dancing together. Then he felt eyes upon him and looked to where Amile was. She was looking right at him. The feeling of guilt took over him again. He quickly abandoned his post and ran to a column next to the right staircase. There he watched Amile and a brown-haired boy dance together. He felt proud of her then. She was growing up. From a little blind baby in a bunch of rags in the snow to this beautiful teenager with the looks of an angel.

That night, Amile couldn't have felt more happier. She had fallen in love, she was in public for the first time in years, and she was loved. The warm light from the room made her feel warm inside and outside. Dmitri held her to him closely. He was a very good dancer, she had to admit. He stepped right in time to the music, gracefully pulling her along. She almost felt inferior to him. "Thank you Dmitri." she whispered into his ear. He smiled and kissed her cheek again. In her peripheral vision, she saw Christine and Raoul kissing. Now she felt scared again. Dmitri brought his mouth close to her ear. "Are you okay Amile? You're shivering." She smiled weakly. "Just a little bit cold." But she knew she was scared because she knew Erik was watching. Her heart thudded dully in her chest in fear of what her father was to do.

As she expected, the lights went out. Dmitri let her go and looked around suspicously. Then she turned her head to see Erik standing at the top of the right staircase. "Oh no..." she whispered. He was dressed in crimson, a skeleton-like mask on his face. He was smiling evily, one she had seen a couple times before. He mocked several people before proceeding to throw down a package, paper spilling out of it. "I have written you an opera" he proclaimed proudly. The managers cowered in fear of the Phantom in front of them. Then he walked up to Christine. Raoul walked away quickly, leaving her there like a coward. Erik gazed at the ring on the chain around her neck. There was a mixture of fear, anger, and sadness in his eyes. He grasped the ring and yanked it off her neck angrily. "You belong to me" he said furiously. His eyes were practically on fire with anger.

What happened next confused Amile. She only saw a quick flash of Erik's red clothing before Christine was gone and Raoul had fallen through the floor. Amile knew that it wasn't safe here. She tried running but her boots stopped her. In a desperate angry action, she ripped them off and threw them behind her, narrowly hitting Carlotta. She ran as fast as she could to the lair.

When she got there, Erik was hunched over his desk, laughs erupting from him, almost in a sickening glee. "She's mine now." he whispered to himself. She was afraid of him now. Everything she thought about him was gone. "Daddy" she said very gently, almost timidly. He turned to face her, his mask off. He frowned at her. "Amile..." She looked down sadly. "You ruined it." she said gently. He felt his heart break. "I-I'm sorry Amile. I had to do it. You will know soon enough." Her eyes went down to the ground and she sighed. Then she turned away. "You really did ruin it." she said, the saddest tone he had ever heard coming from her. Then she walked away from him, not bothering to look back to see if he was watching her.


	28. The Drawings

Okay, Erik isn't exactly being the nicest dad, is he:shakes head: No, he isn't. Don't worry, the cemetary scene will come, just not right now! I'm going to make a little time stretch after the masquerade because you know that the cemetary didn't just happen the day after the masquerade. That would be too weird. And it gives you more chances to see Amile:grins: This chapter is one of my favorites. It goes off topic, but I still love it! Reaaaaaadddd for my health!

Chapter 28: The Drawings

Erik had walked around the lair absent-mindedly for two days, planning on how to get Raoul back for taking his beloved Christine. But he was also thinking on how to make Amile feel better. He felt like he had ruined her life. For those two days, she had been acting like a lifeless rag doll. Her movements were jerky and careless. She refused to talk to her father, making him only feel worse. She had gone out once, just somewhere. It made him feel irresponsible because he never knew where she was going.

Now he watched her sit on her bed, drawing. He had never seen any of her drawings, but judging by the pile of papers forming by her bed, she was getting good at it. Her pencil worked feverishly and her eyes followed it. She seemed so focused, so intent on the object, she was oblivious to what was around her. Yawning, she stopped and stretched. Looking at her drawing, she let a weak smile appear and put the drawing on her growing pile. She moved her wrist to get feeling back in it. She got up and stretched some more. "I'm going upstairs now." she said simply, her voice seemed gravely, probably from not using it for a couple days. Erik looked up from his latest writings and nodded at her. She let out a tired sigh and made her way up.

As soon as he was sure that she was gone, he walked over to her bed, carefully picking up the pile. Bringing them back to his desk, he looked through them. A gasp escaped him. She was overly talented with drawing. The pictures were so beautiful. Delicate pencils lines stretched across the page. There was one of his mask with a rose going through the eyehole. He admired it for a minute before continuing. Then there was one of him at his organ. She had perfectly captured the feeling of the moment. It seemed almost...intimate. In the picture, his back was arched slightly and his head was tilted back. He had assumed this position when he got into what he was doing. His long hair, unkept in this picture, was dark as night itself. Erik smiled at his daughter's work.

Then he got to a picture that made his stomach lurch. Not in disgust, but in shock. Amile had drawn one of the most beautiful pictures he had ever seen. In the picture, he was sitting by the chapel window, looking outside, Christine on his lap, her head on his shoulder, sleeping. He was holding her hands in his and he had a smile on his face. Erik had never guessed that Amile would be in her right mind to draw this. Beauty, intimacy, love. All captured like a photograph. His fingers traced the lines of the window, trying to see how she did it so perfectly.

He changed the drawings again. The next picture made him feel like crying. It, yet again, was him, but he was standing with Amile in front of him. He had his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder. Both of them were smiling happily, their eyes focused on the artist. They both had their masks on and she had her blanket around her shoulders. "Amile..." he whispered sadly. She probably brought that out of her imagination, showing what she wanted. She wanted them both to be happy, both to be smiling like that, holding eachother like that. He bit his lip and set the pile down, not sure if he could get through them all. He looked back at the picture, looking at Amile mainly. Her smile looked so natural. Normally, most of her smiles were forced. Yet again, he thought about how she wanted this. To smile naturally, not force anything.

Forcing himself to change the picture, he found that the next one was not as emotional, but more beautiful. It was a pigeon, just a simple pigeon. But it looked real. It was black with a white V shape on its back. On the bottom was the simple name, _Audron_. He wondered how she came up with that, then he mentally smacked himself. He had seen her go to the highest rafters, where the pigeons were. The pigeon in the picture was probably one that she liked. She made the one in the picture so real.

"Daddy" came a voice from behind him. He jumped what he thought was three feet in the air. "Y-yes" he responded shakily. Amile walked over to him. She looked over his shoulder and frowned. "You saw them." she said quietly. He looked to the side.

"I'm sorry Amile. But, they are beautiful. I didn't know you could draw like that. Why did you never tell me"

She shrugged. "I didn't think you would care. You mainly focus on Christine." He shook his head and stood up, looking at the one with the organ again. "This one, can I keep it" She nodded, almost looking embarassed. "Sure." He smiled and hugged her. "They really are beautiful Amile." Then he kissed her cheek gently. She backed up and gathered up her drawings. Brushing past him, he could have sworn he saw her really smile.


	29. One Day With You

Meh! It goes from my paragraph skills to my punctuation skills:slams head against wall: I **hate** my computer! I dug through my chapters and saw that I had put punctuation in the file thingies, but when I posted them, no more:bites hand to contain anger: Notice how all the question mark places have no question marks? Ach, I fix... Oh, don't worry, the chapters will be much much longer from now on, now that I know what I'm doing. Fun, fun! The cemetary scene will be here shortly, I promise. This, so far, is my favorite chapter among chapters. I loved writing it! Hopefully, you guys will too! So read or get poked with some random object!

Chapter 29: One Day With You

Amile still drew like madness. Erik had watched her for hours on end. She admitted to being inspired by some of his drawings. He felt flattered. Now he watched her as she sat by the lake, staring at her pad, drawing quickly and feverishly. Inspiration hit her like a rock to the head (or a boot in Carlotta's case). She drew a boy, from what Erik saw. He was in elegant clothing with his long hair tied back. He had a very gentle and loving smile on his face. Erik watched intently. "Who is that?" She shrugged. "Dmitri." she said simply. He squinted at her.

"Who's Dmitri?"

She stopped drawing, looking like she regretted what she had said. "He's, well, he's my..." Erik nodded at her "Continue." She bit her lip. "He's my, erm, my boyfriend." she said quietly. They both stayed quiet. Then Erik spoke, "Is he nice?" This actually got a slight laugh out of her. "Yes, very nice." Erik smiled and nodded. "Good, I wouldn't want him to be in any way agressive torwards you." She let out a relieved sigh and continued drawing.

Amile had stopped drawing after about an hour and just laid on her bed, lightly dozing.

"Amile!"

She opened one eye tiredly and groaned. She got up slowly and dragged herself to her father. Placing herself weakly in front of him, she brought her eyes up to look at him through her long hair. "Yesss..." she said, annoyed that she had to get up. Erik smiled at her. "Do you want to spend the day together" She was knocked out of her sleep-like trance and looked at him fully, shocked.

"W-what?"

He smiled at her. "Do, you, want, to, spend, the, day, together?" he said, making sure she heard every word perfectly. She gulped and nodded. He had never done anything like this before, invited her into his world like this. Usually, he had been busying himself with something to do with Christine or something similar. Now he was bringing her back to where she was when she was a child. "I-I'd love to." she stuttered. He grinned and nodded. "Good, tomorrow then. You still look kind of tired." She stared at him, nodding. She walked back to her bed and laid down. Erik must have been tired too because all of the lights went out, causing total darkness. Her shock left her and was soon replaced by joy. She had dreamed of a day with her and her father for years. Maybe it was the drawing that triggered the kind acts torwards her? Not letting that get her down, she let out a sigh of excitement and fell into a restless sleep.

As soon as any sign of morning hit her, Amile practically leaped out of bed. Quickly getting dressed, she looked at the worn-out clock by the organ. It was 4:30 in the morning. Groaning, she sat on her bed, rubbing her eyes. "Aghhh...Tired..." she whispered to herself, afraid anything louder than a whisper would set Erik off. Her excitement was waning with fatigue. She let herself fall backwards onto the bed and sighed. Just as she felt like dozing off, she felt a hand brush against her cheek. "Amile..." came her father's voice. She opened her eyes, greeted by the dim light of early morning. She saw Erik standing over her. She smiled. "You've been awake, haven't you?" He nodded. "I'm an insomniac, remember? The only reason I put the lights out was because you were tired. I've been sitting at my desk for hours, waiting for you to get up." She laughed and groaned at the same time.

"Still tired," she stated. He kissed the top of her head.

"Well go back to sleep then if you're tired." She pouted, confused by herself.

"But I want to get up!" Erik put his hand to his head.

"You confuse me Amile. You really do."

After forcing herself to get up, she ate breakfast at her bed. She had a breakfast croissant and watched Erik go through her latest drawings. He smiled at them. "You are very talented Amile." She smiled, her mouth full. "Thank you." she said. He feigned a disgusted frown. "You're disgusting. Haven't I taught you how to be a lady?" She stayed silent, then shook her head. "No." came a very simple response. He smiled. "I knew you were going to say that." She grinned at him. She finished her breakfast and got up.

"Well, where exactly are we going?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Where do you feel like going?"

She looked at the ceiling in thought, trying to think or remember a place where they could go where they couldn't be seen. Then her expression switched to a broad smile. "Well, you're the Opera Ghost, you should know the best spots." He squinted at her. "So? You're the Blood Ghost, you should know as much as me." She stuck her tongue at him. "But I was blind until just this month!" He looked at the ceiling and smiled. "Ah, true. Well then, I guess I have to take you wherever."

He took her to where the chain holding up the chandelier was. She gasped. It may not have been the most elegant place, but it seemed amazing to her. That this one chain held up tons of weight. She looked to Erik and smiled. "It would be a nightmare if this chain broke or came undone, wouldn't it?" He frowned at it and nodded. "I imagine it would be most disasterous." he said, his eyes following the long chain. She nodded and looked torwards a door that they hadn't entered. "Where's that go?" she asked, pointing at it. A broad smile came over him.

"Do you want to see?"

She nodded happily. He took her hand and they went through the door.

As soon as her eyes hit what was behind the door, she gasped. "Oh my..." she whispered. She saw the whole theater and an up close view of the massive chandelier. He smiled and placed both hands on her shoulders.

"Do you like it?"

She nodded and gaped at the twinkling monster, beckoning her. "I've never seen it this close before." She wanted to reach out and touch the crystal, but she knew it would be deadly. There was at least a 15 foot space seperating the balcony from the chandelier. He placed his arms around her waist and put his head on her shoulder. "I've always loved to come up here. It's like a dream sometimes." She nodded, not realizing what he was doing. She couldn't focus on anything but the glittering mass in front of her. Then she put her hands on his hands. A smile came over her and she tilted her head back.

"Thank you daddy, it's beautiful."

He smiled back. He had just made her dream come true, to be in this position.

Eventually, they knew they had to let go. And reluctantly, they did. Erik looked down at his daughter and smiled. "Shall we continue?" She nodded, the most genuine smile on her face, one he wanted to see for so long. Both of their dreams had come true in a way. He let out a satisfied sigh. Taking her hand, he led her back to the main floor. He led her to the backstage area, knowing that she had not seen every part of it. She only knew her way into the rafters and had gone no further than that. He understood that when she was blind, she went everywhere, but she had not seen where she had gone. It kind of amused him to think of what her expression might be if she had seen where she had gone.

Luckily for the two, no one was working that day. No backstage people, no managers. Only the ballerinas and some management. The next opera wouldn't be for awhile. Christine and Raoul were gone again, out at Raoul's estate. But now Erik could care less where Christine was. Amile was there with him, and for that day, only she mattered. She wandered around the backstage, even venturing into the extra storage space room, which was huge and practically empty. Her eyes darted around, trying to take everything at once. Erik was, as he thought, amused. She could barely believe she had survived on the rafters, which looked close to falling apart. He led her around more of the backstage area and there she wondered how she was able to guide herself around the massive crates and props.

They spent the whole day together, walking around the opera house, talking to eachother. Erik had got to meet Amile's pigeon, Audron. They went back to the lair once, to eat, then went back up to finish the walk off. It had probably been one of the best days of Amile's life, and it had been one of Erik's best days as well.

Finally worn out from walking, Amile walked next to a column supporting the stage and leaned against it.

"How did I make it through all this?"

Erik smirked at her.

"I'm amazed. You got your sight back not very long ago and you forgot? You had this sense basically replacing sight. You were able to know where someone or something was, even if you were 50 feet away from it. And you could hear things that only a bat or something like that could hear."

She looked at the floor and smiled, nodding. "I remember now. That's why Madame Giry called me a little bat." Erik nodded at her. "Yes, that's exactly why." She looked at her father, smiling still. He felt like leaping in joy. Her smile was so gentle and angelic, and he had wanted to see it for so long. But he was not the kind of person to leap around. She yawned and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. "I'm sleepy again." she stated. He smiled at her and picked her up. She was light, which didn't surprise him since she was very active. She placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Thank you daddy. I loved it. It was worth it even if it was only one day." she whispered, much like a child. He looked down at her and smiled. "You're welcome."

He took her back to the lair and placed her on her bed, laying with her, admiring her beauty. She may not have been his biological daughter, but somehow it seemed like it. She looked somewhat like him. Her dark hair mainly, always down and long, and sometimes unmanaged. There had been countless times when his insomnia failed him and he did doze off, only to wake up to Amile's laughter. He had the worst bed-head of anyone around apparently. But as he watched her, he was glad that she didn't look like him all the way. He would have probably killed himself if she had the same face as him. But instead, she had the most beautiful face of anyone he knew, except maybe Christine. He sighed as he thought of Christine. So beautiful and graceful, fearless like her father before her. He admired her. But she wasn't his daughter, no matter how much he wished. He only had one daughter, Amile. She rolled over, facing him, a content and sleepy smile on her face. "Good night my angel." he said into her ear. Then he kissed her cheek and went to do whatever needed to be done.


	30. Snow

Waha! I be back! Anywho, I decided just to write insanely because I'm bored as heck and my head hurts. And I don't have to go to bed for three more hours. Also, the Legacy of Kain fan people, I'm writing a tri-fic, which in other words, means I'm writing three fics that come together in the end. Fun, fun! This chapter is another Amile and Erik being cute chappie! Woohoo! Well, I don't know much else to put here, so, read, or...something...meep.

Chapter 30: Snow

Amile had noticed it had gotten very cold, even up in the regularly warm opera house. She sat on her bed, drawing as usual, with her red blanket draped around her shoulder. Erik watched her happily. Ever since their day together, the two had never been closer. He watched her, very content and happy with himself. But he too had noticed the temperature change. It had dropped somewhat drastically. He wasn't sure if it was the heating in the building or something. Then he remembered, it always got this cold before it snowed.

"Amile, I'm going to go upstairs for a little while." He expected a remark something along the lines of, 'What, is Christine back?'. But it never came. It actually came as "Okay then." He was a little bit surprised. She usually was very sarcastic if anything had to do with Christine. Then he wasn't so surprised. She had been so much more sweeter and more gentle since their day together. She acted like her younger self again.

Creeping upstairs as quickly and quietly as he could, Erik got to the main hall. He looked out the window and smiled. It was snowing. Amile had never seen snow before. It hadn't snowed the night of the masquerade and other than that, she had been in the lair. She had always told him that she had wanted to see it. Just to see what he had found her in. She apparently had heard that is was one of the most beautiful things in the world. Glittering and shining brightly. But she had never been given the chance to see it. He smiled as he saw the white sparkles fall from the sky. Amile had to see it. It seemed vital to her, but was probably more vital to him to see her happy.

He practically ran downstairs, but strolled in casually. Even though Amile was his daughter, she had always been given the impression that her father was the most elegant and sophisticated man in the world. Not some lunatic running around the opera house, all excited over some snow. She looked up at him from her latest drawing. He smiled at her.

"Amile, you've always wanted to see snow, right?"

She nodded enthusiatically. "Ever since you told me about the night you found me." He grinned at her.

"Well then, I guess you might want to know that it's snowing right now?"

Her eyes widened. "Really?" He nodded. She dropped her drawing pad and stood up abruptly, her eyes shimmering with the same excitement that he had just moments earlier.

She followed him through the maze that was the opera house to the roof. That was where she would be able to see all of Paris in the winter. Erik felt excited again, knowing the expression on her face would be priceless. For some reason, he got an amazing feeling whenever she was happy. Her happiness was contagious basically. Right before they got to the door to go to the roof, he went behind her and placed his hands over her eyes, giving her the feeling of being blind again.

"Are you ready to see this?"

She nodded happily. "I've waited years for this." she responded. It was true, she had waited for so long. Then she placed her hand on the door and opened it.

When Erik removed his hands from her eyes, a gasp came from Amile. "Oh my God..." she whispered. He smiled. He walked to her side and looked at her. Her turquoise eyes were wide with wonder and amazement. But above all, much to his joy, they were filled with happiness. She grinned. "This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!" she exclaimed. She scooted next to her father and placed her arms around his waist.

"Thank you so much. You really don't know how much this means to me!"

_I think I can guess_, he thought. It probably did mean the world to her. It was, in a word, symbolic. This was how it was when he found her, in those rags in a dirty alley, as a blind child. The snow just basically symbolized the closeness between the two. It was in this kind of weather, this light snow, where they first came together.

They stayed on the roof for hours until the winter darkness set in. The sat on the side of Apollo's Lyre for awhile, just staring at the endless white landscape. Amile seemed so calm and relaxed, two things she rarely was. They talked for awhile about anything that came to mind. They were so relaxed with eachother, which was strange for both of them. For the past few years, they had seperated themselves from eachother. Amile blamed it on Christine, and she was right. Christine had taken most of Erik's attention, leaving Amile with nothing but a memory of her father's former self. But they had forgotten all of that completely as they sat together. She looked at the snow happily, her head on Erik's shoulder. He had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. She sighed deeply, taking in everything around her.

"Daddy?"

He looked down at her. "Hmmm?" She smiled up at him. "What do you remember about the night you found me?" He looked at her with a confused expression.

"Haven't I told you enought about that story?"

She shook her head. "No, I love to hear it."

He let out a drawn sigh.

"Oh fine. I found you one night in December because I had been kept up in the lair too long and decided since no one was out, I would just take a little stroll. I walked behind the opera house and into an alley. Then I heard a shriek. I didn't know what it was until I looked down and saw a pile of moving rags. Then I pulled them back and there you were. This confused infant. I took you into the lair and wrapped you up in your blanket. That's when I found out that you were blind because you couldn't focus on anything, then I saw the mark on the back of your neck. I don't think you liked me very much when I first found you. Once or twice, you tried to bite my hand for some reason. So I had Madame Giry help me take care of you. Thank God she did. But ever since then, I always think about what would have happened if I had never gone into the alley or found you."

She laid against him by the time he finished. For some reason, she loved that story with all her heart. He looked down at her and smiled. He loved it too, maybe not as much as she did, but he loved it. It seemed so strange and ironic to think that around the time he found her, he needed someone. He had felt the years of lonliness and isolation crash down on him. Then she appeared. A blessing in disguise. Amile was so beautiful even as a child. He always remembered her messy brown hair and her pure blue eyes. He had hoped and prayed that she would never see him. But then he thought how selfish that seemed. Being blind was probably not easy. Then he remembered the reaction he got when she saw the real him for the first time. She hugged him. Not screamed, not ran away. Yes, she had gasped slightly. But no matter. She treated him equally to anyone. She explained that no matter what, he was still her father. Now he looked at the angel for a daughter that he had. She deserved better than this. But she still had him and wouldn't trade him for the world.

Covering her up in his cape, he picked her up like he had the last night they had spent together. He went back down to the lair, relieved that no one was around to see him. He layed her on her bed and looked back at her sleeping figure. As he turned away, a smile came over him. His own true smile. Even though he had been rejected countless times, ridiculed, beaten, torn apart mentally, he was the luckiest man in the world. And the girl on the bed was living proof of this.


	31. The Cemetary

Awww, my reviewers! They disappeared! Oh well, I hope this chapter makes up for everything! I liked it... Meh, I like a lot of things. But hey, I'm bored and tired and listening to Murderdolls. Oh what fun I get out of this. And I highly recommend fufulupin's Phantom of the High School ficcie or whatever it's called. I love it to bits and pieces! So read on my little human things!

Chapter 31: The Cemetary

The wonderful days between Erik and Amile were coming to a close. Christine and Raoul would be coming back soon and the opera house would be up and operating again. Amile cherished the last few days, attaching herself to her father as much as possible. Erik was not aware of the days with his daughter coming to a close, but as Amile thought, he would never be aware. He didn't understand. He didn't see these things. But day in and day out, Amile would still smile, even if it was a sad one.

The snowfall increased when the opera house began running again. The staff was still arguing and talking over Erik's _Don Juan Triumphant!_ Amile feared what might happen the night of the opera, if they agreed on it. If they didn't, there would be a disaster like none has ever seen. The new managers had learned quickly about Erik's reputation. If he said something bad would happen, it would be. And what he described in his letter regarding requirements of the opera, when he stated his threat if the didn't do as he asked, there would be such a disaster so much worse than the death of Joseph Buquet. The managers feared Erik more than anything. It almost gave Amile shame to be Erik's daughter. But she was still his daughter and she would do anything for him. Even if it meant having to commit a murder herself.

Christine and Raoul did come back. Raoul acted like a hawk over Christine, watching her at all times. He even slept by her room at night, making sure no one got to her. Erik got so angry at Raoul for this. He wanted to kill Raoul so badly that he would do anything just to do that.

One night, Erik sat on his chair, writing angrily on a paper, practically ripping it. Amile watched him, afraid of what he might be thinking up. Erik's lips were practically white from being so stressed. His hatred for Raoul probably fueled this. Then Erik sat up straight. "Amile, come here." he demanded. She slowly got to her feet from her position on her bed. He looked into her eyes. His eyes always drew her in. They were enchanting, hypnotizing, beckoning. They were an unusual mix of color of golden green. He smiled at her, fatigue and stress evident in him.

"Tomorrow is the anniversary of Gustav Daaé's death. Christine will have to go to the cemetary, I know it. She loved her father too much not to do it. And that's where we will get her."

Amile held back the urge to scream, 'We! What do you mean we? It's you who wants her!' But she didn't. She nodded. He smiled tiredly.

"But I need you to do something for me. In Gustav's tomb, there is a door opening mechanism. I need you to open the doors on my signal and turn on the gaslamp inside, okay?"

She nodded, not wanting at all to do the task in which her father asked of her. But being as submissive as she was, she nodded again and walked away.

Amile couldn't sleep that night. Her heartbeat was going in unnatural thumps, scared. She had never been really scared in her life. This was getting out of hand. Erik was becoming really insane, losing his mind over a girl that didn't really love him back. He had just watched her day in and day out. Amile regretted ever saying anything as a child about Christine. She blamed herself for getting everyone into this mess. It would haunt her forever. She gazed into the darkness that dominated the lair like a black sheet. All she could ask herself was why did she do it in the first place.

The cold morning came in. Amile was so tired from the lack of sleep she got in the previous night. Erik seemed excited, on the other hand. He was dressed and happy about his newest idea. In her mind, Amile knew it would fail. All of Erik's plans usually did when it came to Christine. Amile very slowly got dressed. Erik looked at her when she came out.

"Are you okay Amile? You look sick."

She shook her head, though she wished she was sick so she wouldn't have to do anything today. It was all against her will. He stroked her hair gently, smiling at her.

"It's okay Amile, it will all be rewarding in the end."

Right there, she actually felt like smacking him hard across the face, knocking some sense into him. It wouldn't be rewarding to her. Only to him. He practically worshipped Christine with every fiber of his life. He stood up straight, in a triumphant pose. "Yes, today will be that stupid Raoul's downfall. He will regret ever laying a hand on Christine." Amile winced at the words. She didn't want anyone's downfall. He looked back down at her. "I need you to take a horse from the stables, you know how. You will ride to the cemetary and wait for me. It may be an hour or so before I actually get there, but be ready."

As Erik ordered, Amile managed to go behind the stable worker's back and take a horse, quickly riding out to the cemetary. She felt like crying the whole way there. Her heart felt as heavy as lead and she wanted to die. Her white mare moved quickly. "Not so fast..." Amile whispered. She wanted to take her time, maybe not show up at all. Erik was doomed and she knew it. Then the cemetary came into view. It rose like a mountain of the dead. She cringed at the sight. It felt almost disrespectful to her to even try to get anywhere near Christine's father's grave. But she had to. It was for her father. She wanted Erik to love only her again, even if it meant doing things against her will.

She let her horse go, watching it gracefully prance among the graves and to wherever it felt like going. Amile looked sadly at the tomb. She bit her lip as she pushed open the doors. Years of experience had taught her how to open doors without trying, like her father before her. Her body froze as she looked at where Gustav's body lay. She saw the lever to open the doors. A shiver ran through her. She would have to be in a dark, cold room with a dead body for a certain amount of time. Just the thought chilled her. Though she didn't have to stay in there until Erik got there. She could wait.

Her depressed feeling slowly drifted away as she watched the snow cover her footprints. She felt so sad on the inside, but her outside didn't show any sign of it. Then she heard quick footsteps behind her. "Amile..." came a voice she knew all too well. Just as she expected, when she turned her head, there was Erik. He was panting. "She's coming, get in there." That's when Amile felt a sudden spark of independence in her.

"No."

Erik looked at her sideways, trying to comprehend what she had just said. "What did you just say?" She felt her fear come back. Since she was young, she had a fear of Erik that came very rarely. But now was a time when it resurfaced. "N-no." she repeated. He glared at her.

"And what makes you think you can deny my orders?" he demanded. She looked up at him and shivered. Then she shook her head. She was to submissive for her own good. Yet again, she gave into him. Slowly, she went back in the tomb, shutting the door behind her.

Then she heard the sound of what sounded like an angel singing. It was Christine. Amile's hand flew to the gaslamp, slowly turning it on. A warm light filled the tomb. The cross behind her was illuminated. Quickly, she pulled the lever activating the door. In a small blast of light, Amile managed to slip out of the tomb to behind it, where Erik stood. He smiled at his daughter, but she didn't smile back. He shrugged, then walked to the side of the tomb. The air was soon filled with his voice, another angel in a dark world. Amile felt herself being absorbed into it. The melody bringing her to the edge of fainting.

Suddenly, the melody was interrupted by a noise that sounded like a horse. Amile felt panic rush through her veins. In an adrenaline rush, she climbed to the top of the tomb and peered over the side. Just as she had expected, Raoul had come to his beloved Christine's rescue. Erik came out from his hiding place, anger flowing through him. "You..." he hissed, like some sort of poisonous snake. Raoul jumped from the horse and took out his sword. Amile felt fear come back into her. "You'd better not hurt him." she said quietly, not loud enough for anyone to hear. To her relief, Erik too pulled out a sword. The two men stabbed at eachother madly. They pranced around the area by the tomb, coming so close to killing one another. Then, Erik cut Raoul's arm and Amile silently cheered for her father. It was like a battle between good and evil, but Amile didn't know who was who.

In a flash of glinting metal, Erik's sword rolled to the side and he was forced to the ground. Raoul pointed his sword at Erik angrily. Then Christine jumped to Erik's rescue.

"No! Raoul! Not like this!"

Raoul looked to her, then Erik, then back at her. He abandoned his spot over Erik and placed Christine on his horse, then he jumped on as well. They rode off quickly, leaving Erik in a stunned state. He stood up and brushed some snow off of himself. He grinned wickedly torward the direction in which the two were headed. "Then, it will be war, against you both." he said shakily. Amile quickly jumped from her own hiding place to her father's side.

"Daddy! Are you okay?"

He sighed and nodded. "I'm fine." he said softly. Amile picked up his sword and handed it back to him, her arm shaking. Erik took it from her and placed it back in its hilt. Then he looked to her, a warm smile coming over his features.

"Thank you Amile, for helping me as much as you did."

She didn't fully accept the thank you. She looked away from him, in shame. Then she felt his arms go around her. He whispered into her ear, "Amile, no matter what happens between us, you will always be my daughter, my own angel. Nothing, not even Christine, can ever change this." Amile shakily hugged him back and looked down at the ground. It seemed like a lie, but this was Erik. She would probably never know the truth.


	32. Deadly Sickness

Woohoo! 200 reviews! I'm so happy:gives you all cupcakes: Sorry I haven't been updating as much as usual. My computer decided to take a vacation and wouldn't turn on until the next day. But then I had to go to my cousin's house all day since I didn't have school that day. Then yesterday, I was sick again. So I just update today and get it over with before I'm pulled away again... Oh yeah, the song is NIN's 'Something I Can Never Have'. It describes Erik's feelings fairly well in my opinion. So read on o' great followers of crazy fanfic authoress!

Chapter 32: Deadly Sickness

The night following the cemetary episode was probably the worst night of Amile's life. Her stomach hurt, as did her head. Erik was losing his mind over Christine and Raoul, making death threats to Christine's lover. Amile laid on her bed, waiting for Erik to calm down again. His yelling was hurting her head which felt ten times more sensitive than usual. "Daddy..." she mumbled, but he didn't hear her. She whimpered, trying to control herself. She felt like throwing up everywhere. Her eyes weakly followed her father's pacing figure, suddenly becoming a moving black blur. Her vision moved in and out of focus rapidly.

Right when she felt like she would pass out, her body calmed down. She still watched her father pacing, not even noticing her. She felt herself go paler than usual and start to sweat. Now her body was not agreeing with her in any way. Her vision became unfocused and in one second, she threw up on the floor.

Erik stopped suddenly, hearing the sound of wretching and gagging. He looked at Amile, horrified to see her figure, looking like death itself. She was not even pale anymore, she was perfectly white. Her eyes had dark circles all the way around them. Her lips were also very white. But the worst part was the blood coming from her mouth. She hadn't exactly thrown up vomit, she had thrown up blood. It was all on the floor next to her bed. She was breathing heavily, dizzy from the sudden loss of blood. "I don't feel so good." she said softly. He stood, horrified at the sight. "Amile..." he whispered. Then, his instinct led him straight to Madame Giry.

He hid behind a column holding up the stage, then prowled to her bedroom again. He followed the familiar path to her room and went inside. Luckily, she was sitting at her mirror, putting her hair back. She saw him in the mirror and whirled around to face him. "Erik" He looked at her in a very panicked way. "Madame Giry, it's Amile. She's very sick." Madame Giry looked at him sideways. "Don't tell me she has a fever." she said, almost jokingly. He shook his head. "No, she's vomiting blood." Madame Giry was out of her chair and by the door almost before Erik could blink. "Well come on then" she exclaimed.

Erik and Madame Giry ran downstairs as fast as their legs would let them. As soon as Madame Giry was in the lair, she gasped and turned to Erik.

"She needs a doctor, right now."

Erik's eyes widened. "Are you insane? I can't let them see me or her." Madame Giry glared at him.

"Do you want her to die?" she said angrily, knowing the answer.

He shook his head quickly, then looked at his sleeping daughter, blood still running from her mouth. He took his sleeve and wiped some of it off. Madame Giry looked sadly at Amile. The girl's breaths were horribly irregular, almost jolty. She was trembling. Madame Giry shook her head and sighed.

"Erik, if she doesn't get a doctor within a couple hours, she will be dead. It's not like the fever she had, this is much worse. If she doesn't get any treatment soon, she will die of blood loss."

Erik collapsed in a chair and took of his mask, rubbing his face with his hands. "But I can't let them see me. They can't see this place." Mme. Giry looked around and nodded. "I will take her then and say she is a ballerina then, whatever it takes." Erik looked up at her and smiled weakly. "Thank you so much."

He carried Amile upstairs with as much stealth as possible. He laid her on Mme. Giry's bed and looked at her, stroking her hair gently. "You're going to make it, I promise." She was still breathing very fast, then slow, then fast again. He kneeled down beside her and kissed her cheek gently. "Just make it for me, please." he pleaded. No answer still. He wished she would talk again, tell him she was okay. But her lips remained only slightly parted letting her jolty breaths come in and out. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around slowly to see Mme. Giry standing over him.

"The doctor is coming so I suggest you go back before he sees you."

Erik nodded and stood up, sending one last sad look to Amile before turning around and leaving.

The hours past exceedingly slow. Erik sat on Amile's bed, staring at some more pictures and waiting for his torture to end. All he needed was for Madame Giry to come down to the lair and tell him that Amile would be okay. But it didn't happen. He waited and waited. He couldn't sleep due to the fact that stress was keeping him up. Slowly, he got up and walked to his organ. The feeling deep within him wouldn't go away. It was a feeling of guilt, sadness, and regret. It was like he was mourning for someone that was still alive. His fingers rested on several keys, trying to think up some song to express his feeling. Then his fingers began to hit the keys, producing the saddest tone. He added his voice, letting it flow, hoping that somewhere, Amile might be able to hear him.

_I still recall the taste of your tears._

_Echoing your voice,_

_just like the ringing in my ears._

_My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore,_

_scraping through my head,_

_'till I don't want to sleep anymore._

_You make this all go away,_

_you make this all go away._

_I'm down to just one thing,_

_and I'm starting to scare myself._

_You make this all go away,_

_you make this all go away._

_I just want something I can never have._

_You always were the one to show me how._

_Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now._

_This thing is slowly taking me apart._

_Gray would be the color,_

_if I had a heart._

_You make this all go away,_

_you make this all go away._

_I'm down to just one thing,_

_and I'm starting to scare myself._

_You make this all go away,_

_you make this all go away._

_I just want something I can never have._

He rested his fingers on the last keys and sighed. He felt himself calm down then, his body relaxed. Though his mind was still set on Amile, he felt slightly more relaxed about her condition. For some reason, he felt as if she would be fine, ready to come back to him. He closed his eyes and saw her in his mind, beautiful blue eyes gazing up at him, her messy brown hair pulled into her classic ponytail that went to her waist. "Erik" came a timid voice behind him. He whirled around to see Meg Giry standing in the lair, her eyes wide. She looked down almost like instinct.

"My mother sent me down here since she's taking care of Amile right now. She told me to tell you that Amile has an ulcer, but she'll be okay in about a week."

A wave of relief passed over him. "Thank you Meg." he said, dismissing her. He sat there for a moment, then stood up. "Wait!" he shouted. Meg stopped in her tracks and turned around. He sighed and looked at the water by his feet.

"Did your mother say if I could see her or not?"

Meg smiled weakly and nodded, obviously afraid of being in the lair in the first place. "She said it was fine, but do it late at night." Erik nodded and smiled. He had to see her, he had no choice now.


	33. The Story With No End

Sorry for the last chapter being all sad. But hey, Amile's life has never been very perfect, has it? I'll try to make up for it somehow. And the weird thing was today on the radio, they played 'Something I Can Never Have' and I was like "Hey! I know that song! That's the song Erik was singing" out loud. My friends were all confused. It was pretty funny. Anywho, I hope this next chapter gives you all the warm and fuzzy feeling that you like so much! Now read little humans, reeeaaadddd!

Chapter 33: The Story With No End

It was soon around 9 o' clock at night, the perfect time to go see Amile. Erik wanted nothing more than just to see her. He completely forgot about Christine and everything about her. Amile was all there was now. He couldn't get the picture of her on the bed out of his mind. She was bleeding so much. Her body became so weak in such a short amount of time. What made him feel so much more guilty was the fact that he hadn't heard her calling to him.

As soon as the clock by the organ chimed, he ran up to the room where Amile was. He didn't really care if anyone saw him. He only wanted to see her. Madame Giry was so worried about Amile and Erik felt grateful that Mme. Giry took the risk of taking care of Amile among so many people who were being cautious since Erik made his appearence. He rushed as fast as he could, thinking about how Amile had been so good about the whole thing. He wouldn't let her down.

Slowly and stealthily, he approached Mme. Giry's door, feeling fear rise in him for the first time in ages. How would Amile react to him being there? Hesitantly, he opened the door. Much to his relief, Amile was sound asleep, Mme. Giry sitting in a chair beside her bed, her face lit by a single candle on the nightstand. Amile was still unusually pale. The dark circles around her eyes had faded slightly, but were still there. Mme. Giry looked weakly up at him, obviously tired from watching Amile the whole time. They made a silent trade in position. He sat down next to his daughter, feeling his guilt come back. Mme. Giry smiled gently as she walked out the door, knowing that Erik would show nothing but love torward his daughter.

Erik felt hot tears come into his eyes. His daughter's pitiful body laid in front of him. Her breath had evened out finally. He stroked her hair gently, feeling every strand brush against his palm. He engraved the feeling into his memory. Closing his eyes, he felt the tears slide down his cheeks. He took his mask off and wiped them away. Then he heard the voice that he had wanted to hear all day and night.

"Why are you crying daddy?"

His eyes shot open to see Amile's eyes staring up at him. They were reduced to a dull gray color from her weakness. Her head remained on the pillow as she stared up at him. He didn't know how to answer. There were so many reasons that the tears came, but he couldn't think of one.  
"Amile..." he whispered.

She smiled up at him so gently that he could have sworn he was looking directly at an angel. He choked back more tears and kneeled next to her. "I'm so sorry." he said quietly. She frowned then. "Why?" It was a practical question actually. His mind wasn't working correctly. No reasons came for that either. He smiled and shook his head.

"Nevermind."

He kissed her forehead gently and she smiled.

Her eyes had closed for about five minutes and he was sure she was asleep. Then she whispered to him, "Daddy? Can you tell me a story?" She sounded like a child. He shrugged and looked at the ceiling. "I'm not very good at storytelling." She opened her eyes slowly. "Please?" He sighed and thought of something, anything to make her happy. He smiled a sad smile then began.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy who was born not very far away from Paris. His father was a blacksmith and his mother worked at home. But they boy was born with a curse. His face was disfigured, but only in one part. He was ridiculed for it, beaten and rejected. His mother hated him for it, hurting him mentally. She gave him a mask to hide everything from the world. He became very quiet and never talked to anyone. His father died after awhile from a disease. His mother began to feel sorry for him. One night, he was crying in his bed, holding onto his mask. She came in and held her to him. Then, for the first time ever, she kissed him on his head. He felt a love that he never knew could exist. Then she left him. She never talked to him again. He became upset and ran away, not bothering to take anything but the clothes on his and his mask.

He wandered for days and days aimlessly. Then some gypsies found him and took him in. He became part of their freak show and they called him 'The Devil's Child'. He was treated horribly, beaten constantly. He thought he would die and he wished for it too. He was underfed and everyday he was hurt some more. They took away his mask and replaced it with a bag so they could take it off easier. Even if he did everything the gypsies said, he was still beaten.

One night in Paris, some little ballerina girls from the nearest opera house watched him. One girl stayed after the crowds left to watch him. She was not afraid of him, but pitied him. When he thought she had left, he killed his master with his own belt. Voices raised and the little girl took him away. He took the money the disgusting old man had made and ran. She took him to the opera house's basement and left him there. He made a home for himself in the lowest parts on an underground lake. He spent his days building his house and making traps in case anyone tried to find him. For years, he composed music and wrote stories. He made tons of artwork of anything he could think of. But he was very lonely. Until one night, he found an angel behind the opera house. She took his lonliness away from him. In exchange, he sheltered her from the world. They grew up together and were very happy. The end."

She smiled and sighed. "That was nice, but I don't think that was a good ending." He cocked his head to the side.

"Why not?"

She shrugged, her eyes still closed. "Because that's not how it ended."

He nodded and looked to the side. Then he smiled. She was right, it wasn't how it ended. He placed his hand on her's.

"You're right Amile, that isn't how it ended. I don't know the ending, I never heard it."

She smiled. "Me either. We'll just have to wait until someone knows the ending, no matter how far away it is."

He pulled his hand away and stood up, stretching. Then he bent down and kissed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open one last time and she looked up at him, the weak smile still plastered on her face. "Thank you daddy." she whispered. He smiled and nodded at her in a way of saying 'you're welcome'. Then she whispered again, "I love you." He walked back over to her and knelt down beside her again. "You do?" he asked. She nodded. "I always will." He kissed her again, this time on the lips. She smiled at him, not caring this time. No shock came, no fear, no anger. Just love. He stood up again and walked to the door, casting one last look at his sleeping daughter.

"I love you too."


	34. Demons and Angels

Awww, I'm sorry I made some of you cry! I didn't mean to! Oh well, Erik and Amile kind of have a sad relationship, but it's nice all together. Hope this next chapter makes you somewhat happier! This chapter seems kind of pointless, but pointless is good! It's a bit funny too. I'm in a slightly better mood than I was yesterday because I rented Moulin Rouge and Chicago last night and ran around my house singing like a maniac. I spent my whole morning singing 'Because We Can' from Moulin Rouge because I was very bored. I wouldn't be very good in a musical. Ach well, just read or get poked with a small plastic porcupine.

Chapter 34: Demons and Angels

Every night at the same time, 9 o' clock, Erik went to visit his daughter. She was regaining her strength, much to his delight. It did go by very slowly, but it started to come back to her. Her normal paleness was restored instead of her being perfectly white. Her blood flow also lessened. Erik always stayed until she fell asleep, sometimes a little bit after. He just would stare at her, taking everything about her beauty in. He did this because he knew that someday this beauty would be different. Amile was only sixteen now, but soon she would be older and different. But perhaps she wouldn't change at all. Only time would tell.

One night, at the end of the week, Erik slowly walked into Mme. Giry's room and was greeted by a huge hug from a certain teenager. Which basically meant that she was fine again.

"Hello darling." he said gently.

Her eyes stared up at him happily, the turquoise shining in them again. "I feel a lot better now." she said, grinning up at him. He smiled down at her. "I can tell."

She sat in her bed, drinking some kind of soup that Madame Giry made for her. Erik smiled as he watched her. "I'm very glad you're feeling better." She grinned, a noodle sticking out of the side of her mouth. He supressed a laugh and pointed to the side of his own mouth. Amile looked at him sideways, then laughed and sucked the noodle in. He smiled and shook his head.

"I suppose you would want to being going back home soon."

Amile nodded quickly, setting down the bowl on the nightstand.

"Oh, you don't know how badly I want to go back! I've been in here too long."

He smiled and nodded, standing up and stretching slightly. He glanced around and sighed. "As long as Madame Giry is okay with it." Amile looked around quickly, then smiled. "She won't care." Erik laughed slightly and shook his head. "Fine, fine..." he said gently. She lifted up her arms. "Carry me." she said in a very dramatic voice. He smiled at her.

"You're too strange sometimes."

She smiled back at him as he picked her up, cradling to him. She snuggled against him and sighed. "I love you daddy." He smiled at her. "I love you more." She grinned and just nuzzled his chest happily.

He laid her on her bed and pulled the covers around her. She looked up at him with her innocent gaze. "I'm sorry for getting you worried." she whispered. He shook his head.

"It's nothing. As long as you're okay." he said gently.

She sighed softly. "Thank you for taking care of me. You and Madame Giry both." He nodded and smiled. Then he stroked her hair gently, softly humming to her. She closed her eyes and smiled. "Good night daddy." she said gently, sliding farther under her covers. He kissed the top of her head and got up. "Good night my angel." he said gently.

In the morning, Amile slowly got up. To her delight, she felt perfectly fine again. She didn't feel as tired or as weak as before. She slowly got out of bed and looked around. The candles around the place gave it a very warm feel to it. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of the place that she had missed so much. The damp warmth of the place, the faint sound of Erik playing something on the organ. Everything seemed so beautiful to her. Quietly, she slipped off the bed and tip-toed into the music room. Erik was softly playing something. It sounded almost mournful. He tried to play it as quietly as he could, probably as so not to disturb her. Still tip-toeing, she walked behind Erik. She knew that when he got into his music, he didn't pay attention to anything around him. She slowly placed her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He stopped playing and leaned back, grinning.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, very much. It feels like I was never sick at all."

He smiled and turned around. "That's good." She nodded and looked into his eyes, smiling.

"You know I heard the song you were singing the other night?"

He looked at her sideways. "What song?" She rolled her eyes. Then he knew suddenly what she was talking about.

"How on earth...?"

She smiled at him. "I still have good hearing." she stated. He looked down, almost embarassed that he had forgotten. She placed her arms around his neck suddenly, nuzzling her face in his neck. "It was beautiful." she said softly. He closed his eyes and absorbed the moment, the closeness. He sighed and put his arms around her, pulling her to him. For the whole time she had been sick, he had been so afraid he would have never been able to hold her like this. But now it was just her. This angel in his arms. A demon holding an angel. It seemed so strange to think about. But it was still perfect.


	35. The Perfect Night

Thanks to all of you for being so cool to me! And special thanks to KirbyHermy for being the bestest best person ever in the world and giving me tons of ideas. I'm going to use them all if I can:grins: Fun! She had some great ideas that I'm going to take to heart and everything. They were great suggestions. Anywho, I write more, even though my fingers really hurt from typing a school paper and someone else's paper too. Fun fun. I suffer at the hands of you crazy peoples! So read to make my fingers feel better!

Chapter 35: The Perfect Night

Amile laid on her bed, her body fully rested at last. Erik watched her like a hawk, watching for any sign of her being sick. He felt like an actual father for once. Mainly because he didn't want to risk losing her again. She felt like he was some sort of hypochondriac. Except torwards her. If she even coughed for some reason, he would watch her until he was sure she was okay, which was usually one long 10-minute stare. He also watched her as long as he could when she slept. Her paleness still scared him, but he forced himself to realize that was her normal color.

One night, she watched him in amazement. He suddenly was all excited and moving much more. He seemed also to be designing something. A new black mask was created and a new minature of the stage was created, this time decorated with flames and was shimmering with glitter and light. New models were set up, one a minature of himself. She was confused as she watched him create it. This time, he loosened the chandelier on the stage and grinned at it. This action brought fear into her. He never did anything to the chandelier, except when he swung on it many years ago just to scare some people. She barely remembered that. That was back when she looked up to her father, wanting to create her own legacy of fear and chaos. But now she wanted him to stop. She couldn't look up to him anymore. He was becoming irrational and insane.

That night, he came to her and looked at her drawing pad.

"Amile? Can you do me a favor?"

She glanced up at him. He hadn't asked her to do anything for him in awhile. She only nodded. He smiled, almost in relief.

"I wanted to know if you could help me on the night of the opera. That disgusting boy who calls himself Raoul, he will be in Box Five on the opera night, no doubt. But I want you to do several things. First, when you go up to the theatre, activate the water cage trap below the stairs. Then go to Box Five and make sure Raoul doesn't do anything stupid as he usually does. After awhile, I want you to go straight back down to the lair and wait for me, is that clear?"

She nodded, almost upset by her father's orders. The water cage trap was rarely activated unless Erik wanted heightened security for some strange reason, which was basically never. Then his eyes widened as he remembered something.

"Amile, I do want you to be as careful as possible. The French police will be there. They are expecting me. If they catch you, who knows what will happen then!"

Now fear coursed through her veins. The police? How far were the managers and Raoul willing to go to protect their precious soprano angel? She felt anger for Raoul then. Then again, she felt fear all over her. She hated Christine for taking Erik away from her, she hated Raoul just for being there, and she hated the managers for being stubborn fools and not paying heed to the warnings that Erik practically shoved in their faces. She glared up at Erik, her most evil and malicious smile on her face.

"I would be more than happy to," she stated, her voice dripping with malice and anger.

He smiled at her and nodded.

"Good then. I expect you to do only your best. And this time, I want the Blood Ghost to do it."

He winked at her, which he did very rarely. She smiled up at him. Then she put her drawing pad to the side and hugged him. He sat down next to her and hugged her back. He put his head partially on her shoulder and whispered, "No matter what, you will always be mine. Not even Christine can stop that."

Her heart fluttered at those words, words she had wanted to hear for months. He kissed her neck lightly, making her heart only beat faster. It seemed so unnatural, having any true loving feeling torwards her own father. It just seemed wrong, but she accepted it, still hesistantly. Right there, she admitted to herself, she had fallen in love with him. Something about him seemed so beautiful, but so deadly. He just wasn't the father type. He was a romantic, a hopeless romantic, yearning for a girl he could never have. In her mind, she screamed at him that he had her. But it seemed too selfish, to fall in love someone who had taken care of you for fourteen years, not counting the two you had been around mid-Europe.

He fell asleep for the first time in months. He had relaxed, which was not normal for him. Stress was always upon him like a preying animal, bent on taking over him. But now he laid on her bed, lightly breathing and partially smiling. She smiled gently at him and removed his mask. Then she pulled a velvet blanket around him. He closed his eyes tighter and curled up like a cat. She wanted to laugh. He never acted like that. It seemed so out of character. She laid next to him and stared at the stone ceiling, arching above them.

Candles burned relaxingly around them, giving the lair a warm feeling to it. One that made her sleepy. She forced her eyes open, only succeding to bringing them at half-lidded. She turned over lazily to face Erik. The bottom half of his face was hidden by the blanket. She smiled sleepily at him and pulled the blanket down, exposing his whole face. Looking around as if someone was watching, she turned back and kissed him gently on the lips. She smiled at him and dozed off, whispering, "Good night Daddy."


	36. Into The Warzone

I continue! Yay! I have had the most severe attack of writer's block and I couldn't do anything, but last month I saw the play at the Masonic Temple and I was like "NYAAAAHHHH! I MUST WRITE!". So I started, and then, lo and behold, I get pneumonia and bronchitis from someone in my school. I got better and tried to write again, only to break my foot in gym class and I had to be in the hospital for awhile, then spring break, I went to Florida. :sigh: So busy I be...and accident prone. By the way, Amile is sixteen like Christine. Erik found her when she was two years old and took care of her for fourteen years. Just to clear anything up that confused you. Now it starts to get good! Yay goodness! So read little good-fic seeking minions!

Chapter 36: Into The Warzone

The night of _Don Juan Triumphant!_ came at last. Amile felt great, not caring about anyone except herself and Erik. It was like a high that she couldn't get off of. She had planned everything from start to finish. What she would wear, where she would be, everything. She had read the script two times and then looked through the music. It had to be good.

Erik had left around a half and hour before she started to get ready. She dressed in her masquerade outfit and her own mask, smiling at her artwork. She took her blanket just for good luck. It was perfection in its finest form. The set was black and red, so she would blend right in. But her common sense suddenly took hold of her. Should she really be doing this? Yes, it was for her father, who she wanted to please more than anyone in the entire world. But someone would suffer, or many people... She shook her head to clear her thoughts of anything that was going to prevent her from doing this. It had to be done. Before she left, she took an extra Punjab lasso, just in case.

Exactly as Erik had warned, the police were everywhere. Their eyes were glazed over so they could look like they were the most agressive creatures that ever existed. This wouldn't be easy. Then again, did Amile ever like things to be _that_ easy? No, she didn't. She smiled as she remembered the back door to the stage. All actors and actresses came in through there, so she would too. She could try to trick the guards into thinking she was an actress that was never written, and if they didn't believe her, there would be consequences. Amile made two plans, knowing one would have to work. So she managed to sneak out of a window and used the shadows as a hiding place, going outside and into an alley, her eyes staring wildly at the guard. He was a big man, a rifle in one hand, a checklist in the other. But no one was too big for her. She could easily take him down.

As a precaution, she took off her mask and hid it behind her back as she walked up to him, managing a very innocent look.

"Excuse me..." she said softly, trying to keep a little innocent girl aura around her.

He looked down at her and smiled, his voice producing a very scratchy, "May I help you?" She nodded and looked at the checklist in his right hand. He also looked at it and set his rifle down and got out a pencil.

"Name please?"

"Amile LeCrux," she responded, knowing that her masquerade name had to work somehow.

He looked through a few pieces of paper and shook his head. Obviously a no. She put on a fake confused look, the best she could manage and stared at the back of the checklist.

"But, I _have _to be in there! How can I not be?"

"I'm sorry madamemoiselle, but I cannot let you in if you aren't on the checklist. But if you wish, I could go in and ask someone about this."

His offer was sweet, but Amile had no time for sweetness. She sighed and nodded, moving her eyes to the left, knowing it was the lying look. He turned around to open the door. Little did he know about her reaction time. She took out the lasso and threw it with as much speed as she could produce, putting on her mask as well. It was a perfect strike. She yanked back harshly on his neck and pulled him down, flipping him onto his stomach in the process. She placed her boot on his back and growled at him, "I know I'm not on that checklist because I'm really not an actress. But I am one thing. I am the daughter of the Phantom of the Opera. And you're not going to live long enough to tell anyone. They'll already know."

With that, she yanked hard and broke his neck. Releasing the rope, she stared at the hook holding up a lantern. It seemed strong enough...

She left him hanging somewhat off the hook, but not all the way. Using her knowledge of leverage and the pulley system, she peeled off a few strings off what made the whole lasso and balanced the rifle on the hook, tying the remaining strings to the trigger. If anyone tried to pull him down, they would be shot.

Going through the hallway in mass chaos was a deathwish, but she managed. No one noticed her because of the insanity going on and because of the fact that she blended in. Dodging hurrying people and stage changers, she got to a pillar behind some of the curtains on the stage. _Thank you Lord for friction_, she thought. Pushing her way up the stone pillar with her boots and her fingers, she got up to the higher rafters without being seen. There were police up there with the stage changers. She knew how to get past them though. Making her way to a staircase that went to the hallway that went the boxes, she slid in and closed it.

Police were there too, talking to eachother quietly. It scared her at first, but luckily Box Five was not far away. The police guard there was over at someone else's box, chatting to the other police officer.

"Stupid," she muttered.

She easily slid into the box without being seen by anyone. Raoul was not there yet so she took the chance to look over the stage. It was amazing. It made you feel like you were in Spain or someplace very warm. Sweat threatened to come out of her pores already. A click behind her told her to hide. Finding another pillar to hide behind, she heard Raoul and a police man come in. It took a minute for Raoul to get settled before the curtain finally rose.


	37. A Night To Remember

Well folks, the next chapter is the last. I hope you liked this whole story. I'll be sad to say good-bye to this. So, read this one last action-filled chapter and be sure to say your adioses and good-byes to me!

Chapter 37: A Night To Remember

Amile let herself get drawn into the play, just by hearing it. She could see the play in her mind. Almost like a swirling pit of fire with no end. That was exactly what it sounded like. The music was a little out of wack sometimes, but sometimes, it was perfect. Erik had really put much of his mind into it. Her eyes closed, taking it into her. It was entrancing. She heard Christine come on and opened her eyes suddenly. With so much hatred built up over the years, Amile had become immune to Christine's 'perfect' voice. Amile made a small hissing noise. She hated Christine now more than ever. Maybe it was just that fact that Amile's mind was changing. She _had_ killed a man. It was so unlike her that she hardly believed herself. But now she had someone else to go after. Raoul. Her mission was now to assault Raoul and possibly kill him.

Christine's voice stopped for Piangi to begin his playful little act. Amile looked at the crowd to see a variety of expressions. Confusion, disgust, and amusement. The temperature had risen in the room, so heat may have played a part in the confusion. Vents usually kept the place cool by bringing in the brisk night air, but not that night. Amile was curious as to what caused it. She went into thought about it, but was interrupted by a voice from the stage.

_It was Erik._ Her eyes widened. He hadn't told her he was going to actually be in the play! He had just said he was going to wreak some havoc. But with him on stage gave Amile a very uneasy feeling. His voice carried through the opera house majestically, like some sort of infection spreading through the opera house. The expressions of the audience changed at the same time into a look of entrancement. Men were looking like they were being hypnotised and the women were all leaning forward, trying in vain to get closer. He went from a soft whisper to almost an angry howl, filled with wanting. Amile could feel Christine's shock. This wasn't right at all. But Christine gave in and answered to Erik's call.

She sang back like a tropical songbird, exotic and full of life. Erik loved it. Christine was all his. Her voice went through the opera house and the trance became enhanced. All of the audience were now leaning forward, just wanting the two acting lovers' voice as their own. Raoul was standing up now, chatting madly to the policeman beside him. No use. Nothing could be done now. Everyone who knew what was going on also knew that the end of the night rested on Erik. Now the two were in a duet, their voices mixing angelically. Amile's muscles tensed. She had to do something.

Her instinct led her to peek behind the column supporting the box. The stage seemed frozen except the two ascending the stairs together and meeting at the top to dance together. Erik held Christine lovingly in his arms, touching her as though she was a fragile porcelain doll. Amile didn't want to watch, but she had to. It was all she could do now.

Suddenly, Erik's song changed to one Amile knew. The desperate and mourning song that was sung on the roof on that night after Buquet's death. Now it was directed fully at Christine. Amile's heart practically stood still as she waited for the result.

"Christine, that's all I ask of-"

He was cut short by one of the most horrific mistakes made by Christine to date. She took of his mask and revealed him. His whole face, no mask or any cover whatsoever. Amile gasped in horror. Not because of his face, but because of what Christine had done. Now Hell would open. But Erik merely smiled an evil smile and grasped Christine around the waist. The floor collapsed and the two went through the floor. Everyone's attention was diverted by a slight tinkling noise. They all looked up to see the chandelier swinging dangerously. Amile held her breath. Then, the ceiling cracked.

"_It would be a disaster if this chain broke or came undone, wouldn't it?"_

_"I imagine it would be most disasterous,"_

She should have known. It was all too obvious. And it became more obvious as the chain suddenly ripped its way out of the ceiling. Screams filled the air as the chandelier slid down the chain and rammed into the seats. Raoul had already left the box awhile ago. Amile watched with nausea as fire ignited among the opera house. Amile knew that someone had to stop Raoul from killing himself. And although she didn't like him, no one should die under Erik's insanity. Because she didn't want to be seen so easily, she took off her mask and threw it into the box somewhere. Then she slid down the column and hit the ground almost soundlessly.

Dodging the fires and the angry mobs forming, Amile ran with a fox's speed and slyness. Running into Christine's dressing room, she flung open the mirror and ran inside, following the damp tunnel all the way to the shore of the underground lake. Tears were forming in her eyes. Anger and fear tore through her as she began to wade through the lake. She stopped, not able to go on. Her anger was replaced with fatigue. Never in all sixteen years of her life had she ever had to stop herself because she was tired. She walked back to the shore and leaned against the wall, her lips pale with some strange sickness tearing it's way through her body. Far away, she heard someone say those familiar words, "Hand at the level of your eyes." She smiled tiredly and sang softly.

"_The hand at the level of your eyes..."_

Her voice was small and tired, but soothing to her ears. She began to drift off slowly into a dream that she hoped would envelop her and wake her when it was all over.

Amile awoke in her dream. Everything was a misty white, fog swirled like a calm tornado. She looked around to see nothing but the fog. Was she dead? The thought was erased as she saw two figures approach her. One a woman with a long navy dress and dark brown hair. The other was a man in dirty work clothes and kind blue eyes. It was her real parents. She gasped. Her mother smiled at her.

"Amile... Don't let go yet. It's not over until you let it be. It's not your time to go. You still have Erik, so stay with him while you can. Save him from himself."

Her father smiled and walked up to her and placed his strong hand on her shoulder. The smell of old tobacco and coffee filled her and made her smile. His voice was strong as well and held that strict German accent to it.

"One day, you will see us again. But your life is not ready to end. You still have so many years ahead of you, happy ones and sad. This isn't your last night. You still have people that love you. Not just Erik either. Go to those people and let them help you make those happy years. Now is not the time to lose those years to a sickness."

Amile felt tears fill her eyes once more. This wasn't right. Her parents were dead. Did that mean she was on the border between life and death? She looked at her parents and nodded.

"I will go on, I promise."

They smiled kindly at her, practically a mirror to her own expressions. All the years of blindness and pain led up to these next few hours. And she could try to help. She may not succeed, but she had to try. Her parents nodded and walked back into the fog. Amile closed her eyes to that world and opened them to the real world. The same dark lake, the same damp stone walls. She felt the sickness leave her.

Taking a dive into the lake, Amile swam with all of her strength to the gate. To her surprise and horror. Raoul was already tied to the gate with the lasso. Erik was grinning madly and Christine was pleading and sobbing for her lover's life. Amile wanted to call out to her father to stop, but the words wouldn't come. She heard the angry mobs she had seen forming earlier fast approaching. Erik howled out the desicion Christine had to make in his strongest and most commanding voice. Christine stayed silent and the only sound was Erik's angry breathing and the mobs cries.

Christine then made a very bold move. She approached Erik slowly and gracefully, looking like a swan in the water. Singing softly to Erik, she walked up to him and looked into his eyes, not even bothering to look at the deformity. It didn't matter now. Christine then tipped her head up and kissed him forcefully. Amile's heart skipped a beat and Raoul moved frantically against the gate, trying to get away, not even thinking of killing his enemy anymore.

Erik and Christine seperated, leaving Erik in shock. His breathing was distorted and panicky. Then he began to sob. He didn't know anymore. Confusion attacked him from every side. What should he do? He cut Raoul's rope down and stormed up to the shore again, crying even harder. He turned his back to all of them, sticking his hand out, physically dismissing them. The gate went up suddenly.

"Take the boat, swear never to tell, all that you know of the Angel in Hell."

The two lovers stalled in shock. He was _freeing _them? He turned to face them angrily.

"GO NOW!" he screamed at them. They got in the boat and Raoul began moving it with the pole. Amile dove underwater to avoid being seen. She came up to take a breath just in time to see Christine glance back and catch a glimpse of the girl. Amile didn't care and ran back to the shore. Erik was sobbing and down on his knees, Christine's ring in his palms. He saw her and stood up abruptly. "A-Amile? You're alive?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

He ran up to her and hugged her tightly to him. She looked into his eyes and frowned.

"We have to get out of here, now."

He nodded and took her hand, pulling her behind one of the curtains and into another tunnel that Amile had never seen before. They ran through it until Erik stopped. He was panting. He looked at her and hugged her again. She could tell that he was scared out of his mind. Never in a million years had he expected anything of this type to happen. Tears slid from his eyes as he pulled back.

"Amile, I want you to keep going through this tunnel until you get to a door. It's connected to the front room. Get out of this place and find Madame Giry or someone. Just get out."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"You have to Amile! I'm not a good father and I don't even deserve to be one or even to know you!"

"SHUT UP!" she screamed at him. He went silent.

"You are my father and the only one I have. You're my only real family! If you're gone, how will I survive? This place is the only thing I know! What am I supposed to do? Go back to Germany? I don't even know anyone there! Please come with me or something!"

But he only shook his head. He held her to him and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm damned Amile. That's all there is to it. Madame Giry will know what to do with you, I'm sure of it. You don't even have to leave Paris. But please, do this for me. Go see a world that I never got to see in the light. You weren't meant to be in the cellars of an opera house. You're not a demon like me, you're a human who needs to be with other humans, not the Phantom."

She was sobbing as well. No, this couldn't be happening, not to her. She stood on her toes and kissed him forcefully. It was the last chance that she would ever get to do that. She slowly pulled back.

"Good-bye daddy." she said softly.

He smiled sadly at her.

"Good-bye Amile."

As she left him, she took one look back to see him walking back to the lair. She heard one piercing wail come from him and she ran faster. Then she got to the door. Slowly, she opened it. And there, just as Erik had said, was the front doors. The whole place was empty from the fire. She ran outside, leaving her home forever. Taking one look back, she saw the great fire and the breaking windows. Tears rolled down her cheeks. It was their final good-bye. She slowly walked away and into the crowds, now just a nameless girl with no history. She turned around one more time to look at the burning opera house and mumbled out something that only she could hear,

"I love you daddy, and I always will."


	38. Back Home

So this is the official ending to the story. It's been wonderful to see how all of you liked it. I mean, 300 reviews on my first story here! So, this is my good-bye to this story and to the reviewers who so graciously reviewed it! Thank you all so much!

Chapter 38: Back Home

It had to be a mistake. Erik knew it. There was no other explanation. Why in the world would he get a letter? Especially one delivered directly to the abandoned opera house. But it seemed real. And it was from Dmitri Zayachkov. Erik sat in his burnt-out lair, examining the envelope. There had to be something wrong. How did someone even know he was down here? It had been nine years since that night and the opera house was almost completely broken down. The soft candlelight provided some examination light. He slowly opened it and looked at the carefully written words.

_Dear Monsieur Erik,_

_My wife told me to write you. Yes, Amile. We have been married five years now. But now I write to you in severe desperation. Apparently, you and Madame Giry and her daughter are the only ones other than myself and my daughter that knows Amile personally. And the reason I write this is because Amile is severely sick. The doctor says she has had this sickness for awhile now. Something to do with frequent ulcers. And even though ulcers seem like something that can be rid of with the right mixture of medicines, I fear it is almost too late. We are not very sure about what is going to happen, but Amile may die soon. She requested that you come to our home and visit her. The address is on the envelope. Amile also suggested you come at night. _

_Thank You,_

_Dmitri Zayachkov_

It hadn't even taken the first five sentences to make tears come to Erik's eyes. First, Amile was married and had a child, and second...she was dying. He should have known it from the first time she had ever gotten sick when she was a child. She had gotten sick in the stomach many times before. But he had been so blinded by obsession to notice the pattern in her sicknesses. At least he knew that she had made it through the years, even though this was the first time anything had come up about her. He had to visit her. No matter how much he was in ruin, this was his daughter from God's sake! He had to.

Amile lay in her bed, a cold rag held on her forehead and her eyes closed. She was twenty-five now. As beautiful as she was nine years ago, if not more. The lights were dimmed so they wouldn't hurt her eyes if she opened them. Her daughter, Erika, held her mother's hand in both of her own. Erika was the stunning replica of her mother. Long blackish-brown hair and bright turquoise eyes. But tears filled her eyes. The four-year-old looked at her sick mother with sadness. Madame Giry and Meg Giry stood behind her, the doctor next to her, and Dmitri across from her on the other side of the bed, stroking his wife's hair. Erika touched her mother's pale arm gently, wanting her mother to be okay.

There was a knock on the bedroom door. It opened and in came one of the servants. He coughed into his hand and looked around the room.

"Madame Zayachkov has a visitor."

Behind him was Erik. He had his old mask on. Madame Giry and Meg gasped at the same time. Dmitri looked surprised and Erika was just confused. Erik entered the room shyly. He looked to his sick daughter and frowned. So it was true, she was really dying. The doctor looked at Erik oddly. He didn't exactly see people in masks come in a lot. Erik approached the bed slowly, looking at Erika and smiling gently. This was indeed Amile's daughter. She was identical to her mother.

"Is...is she alive?" he asked quietly.

Dmitri nodded. Erik got an odd smile on his face.

"I always pictured our reunion a bit differently than this."

Erika tugged on the side of Erik's shirt and looked up at him innocently. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought that it was twenty years ago and he was looking at Amile again. Erika's eyes glistened with tears.

"Are you mommy's dad?"

He smiled and nodded. Erika nodded and looked all the way up at him.

"She talks about you a lot. She said I'm named after you too 'cause my name is Erika. So that means your name is Erik, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Oh okay. So this means you're gonna make mommy all better so she can play with me again?"

Erik frowned and looked at Amile.

"I don't know."

Erika frowned too and looked at her mother. Erik felt terrible. No four-year-old should have to deal with this.

Suddenly, Amile's eyes fluttered open, but only reached the half-way point. She looked sleepily at Erik and smiled. Her voice was soft and gentle, "Hello daddy."

"Hey Amile. Are you feeling any better?"

"If by better you mean am I not throwing my brains up, then yes, I'm feeling better."

He let out a small laugh. Even in the most painful and desperate of situations, Amile always managed to make it a little bit better. She coughed a few times and looked over at her daughter. She smiled at Erika who hadn't let go of her mother's hand.

"Hey sweety. I see you met your grandfather."

"Y-yeah, I did mommy."

Amile let out a soft sigh and looked at the ceiling. Her vision blurred in and out. She closed her eyes and coughed again. She let out a very gentle sigh and began speaking again.

"Erika, do you want to hear a story?"

Erika nodded, "Yes." Amile smiled and began her story, word for word like she heard it.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy who was born not very far away from Paris. His father was a blacksmith and his mother worked at home. But they boy was born with a curse. His face was disfigured, but only in one part. He was ridiculed for it, beaten and rejected. His mother hated him for it, hurting him mentally. She gave him a mask to hide everything from the world. He became very quiet and never talked to anyone. His father died after awhile from a disease. His mother began to feel sorry for him. One night, he was crying in his bed, holding onto his mask. She came in and held her to him. Then, for the first time ever, she kissed him on his head. He felt a love that he never knew could exist. Then she left him. She never talked to him again. He became upset and ran away, not bothering to take anything but the clothes on his and his mask.

He wandered for days and days aimlessly. Then some gypsies found him and took him in. He became part of their freak show and they called him 'The Devil's Child'. He was treated horribly, beaten constantly. He thought he would die and he wished for it too. He was underfed and everyday he was hurt some more. They took away his mask and replaced it with a bag so they could take it off easier. Even if he did everything the gypsies said, he was still beaten.

One night in Paris, some little ballerina girls from the nearest opera house watched him. One girl stayed after the crowds left to watch him. She was not afraid of him, but pitied him. When he thought she had left, he killed his master with his own belt. Voices raised and the little girl took him away. He took the money the disgusting old man had made and ran. She took him to the opera house's basement and left him there. He made a home for himself in the lowest parts on an underground lake. He spent his days building his house and making traps in case anyone tried to find him. For years, he composed music and wrote stories. He made tons of artwork of anything he could think of. But he was very lonely. Until one night, he found an angel behind the opera house. She took his lonliness away from him. In exchange, he sheltered her from the world.

She stayed with him for many years until she knew that she would soon have to leave him. For she was being called back into her real home. Though he did not want her to leave, she had to. The world was now changing and forcing them apart. And when she left, both were very sad from parting with eachother, but they silently promised eachother they would see eachother again.

And soon, God said that he would let the angel see the boy again. She was so happy. They talked with eachother and played with eachother. The angel showed the boy the other wonderful things she had been able to do since they had left eachother. They wanted to stay together longer, but God said the angel had to go back home again. This time, she had to stay. She looked to the boy and told him that maybe one day, he would get to visit her in her home. And they looked at eachother for a minute before saying a sad good-bye. Then the angel flew back to heaven to be home again. The end."

Erik felt tears in his eyes. The story was ending. Amile opened her eyes with what little strength she had and smiled at her father.

"Yes, maybe one day daddy, one day."

Erik walked over to his daughter who closed her eyes again. He removed the rag and kissed her forehead gently. He stroked her long brown hair then whispered quietly to her,

"The end."

She smiled one last time before she took one breath and let it out slowly, loosening her grip on Erika's hands. She went back home. Erika looked up at Erik with tears rolling down her face.

"Is she gone grandpa?"

Erik placed one hand on Erika's head and nodded. Dmitri let out a choked sob. The doctor lowered his head. Meg was sobbing on her mother's shoulder and Madame Giry was stroking her daughter's back. Erik felt a tear roll down his cheek and he wiped it away. But even through his sadness, he smiled. Her mission was finished. She had died happy, with everyone she loved standing around her. And now she was more happy than she would have ever been on earth. She was no longer a ratty opera house girl, but an angel. Even though she was an angel, Erik would never think of her like that. He would always think of her as his child in the snow.

THE END


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